STRUCTURALISM IN BIBLICAL INTERPRETATION AND THEOLOGY N OTHING IS MORE characteristic 0£ contemporary biblical interpretation than the emergence of new methodologies designed to open new arenas for research. As interpreters have adopted new approaches, they have become increasingly self-conscious about the methods and presuppositions at work in the analyses they undertake. A symptom of this self-consciousness in American biblical interpretation has been the publication, by Fortress Press in Philadelphia, of a series entitled Guides to Biblical Scholarship. At first the perimeters of the series appeared to be clear cut. The dominant methods were ready at hand: textual criticism, literary (source) criticism, form criticism, and redaction (composition) criticism. 1 But when Beardslee and Habel wrote the books on literary criticism, when Tucker wrote the book on Old Testament form criticism, and when Perrin wrote the book on New Testament redaction criticism, they found themselves defining the literary nature of the biblical materials in broader terms than the traditional practitioners of biblical literary-historical criticism. The shift in these books indicates that the cultural context of interpretation is on the move. Interpreters are remolding literary-historical methods on the basis of new perceptions in the culture. The author of a recent issue in the NT section of 1 The editor of the Old Testament contributions is Gene M. Tucker; the New Testament, Dan 0. Via, Jr. The series., through most of 1976, contained the following books: Ralph W. Klein, Textual Criticism of the OT (1974); Norman Habel, Literary Criticism of the OT (1971); William A. Beardslee, Literary· Criticism of the NT (1970); Gene M. Tucker, Form Criticism of the OT (1971); Walter E. Rast, Tradition History and the OT Edgar V. McKnight, What is Form Criticism? (1969); William G. Doty,, Letters in Primitive Christianity (1973); Norman Perrin, What is Redaction Criticism (1969); J. Maxwell Miller, The OT and the Historian (1976); Edgar Krentz, The Historical-Critical Method (1975). 349 350 VERNON K. ROBBINS the series asserts that interpreters must recognize the new cultural setting for interpretation and refashion methodology to accommodate the new perceptions. The new method is " structural exegesis," and the author of the book claims that " the very introduction of structural methods in exegesis implies a shift in the exegete's preunderstanding of the biblical text." 2 By now it is evident that a revolution, in the sense of T. S. Kuhn's The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, is occurring in the field of biblical study. 3 During this kind of revolution V'arious groups and interpreters emerge with distinctive forms of the new methodology. 4 It is necessary for such variety to emerge, since various combinations of analysis and synthesis constitute any mature area of study. This situation, however, makes every explanation of the transition run the risk of being an oversimplification. This article explores implications of structural exegesis for biblical interpretation and theology during the last quarter of the twentieth century. The author presupposes that future methods will employ certain kinds of structural techniques of analysis and synthesis, though it is a matter of debate whether structural techniques will dominate the field or be incorporated with other techniques. Since structural study is invading virtually every area of study, 5 it is impossible to cover even a majority of areas which relate to biblical interpretation and 2 Daniel Patte, What is Structural Exegesis? (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1976), p. 1. This study has heen expanded as Structural Exegesis: From Theory to, Practice (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1978) with a French parallel, Pour une Exegese Structurale (Paris: Seuil, 1978) . 3 This work is part of a series entitled "International Encyclopedia of Unified Science," Vol. !'!, No. !'! (Chicago: University of Chicago, 1970). The nature of scientific revolutions is discussed, pp. 9!'!-173. Though references to this book are "in the air" in discussions of methodology, J. D. Crossan referred explicitly to this book, and outlined the nature of the "revolution " in biblical studies as he sees it, at a meeting of the Chicago Society of Biblical Research, February 19, 1977. 4 Ibid., p. 76. He further indicates, p. 1, that there must he a long fermentation period where two major disciplines compete. 5 An excellent collection of essays which shows the broad spectrum of structural studies is found in Introduction to Structuralism, ed. Michael Lane (Harper Torchbooks; New York: Basic Books, 1970). STRUCTURALISM: BIBLE AND THEOLOGY 351 theological formulation. The methodological transition will be discussed on the basis of books and articles recently published in America-some which are authored by Americans and some which are translations of French or German publications. FROM HISTORICAL p ARADIGM TO LINGUISTIC p ARADIGM Structural analysis, according to most interpreters, seeks understanding within a linguistic paradigm rather than a historical paradigm. 6 Over the past two hundred years a historical paradigm has been establishing itself as the perceptual framework in which biblical study proceeds. The key to a historical paradigm is the perception that all things result, over a period of time, from a cause or causes. The first method to emerge within the historical paradigm was textual criticism. The method arose when interpreters discovered that the wording of books in the Bible varied from manuscript to manuscript, and often the variations were a touching point for differing theologies. The conclusion arose that variations had been produced through a complex process of alteration and error. The reproduction of manuscripts without benefit of the modern printing press caused variations in wording. Textual critics developed a scientifically precise method for unravelling the genetic process whereby corruptions of the earliest text were present in 15th and 16th century manuscripts. 7 Literary-historical study of the Bible gradually moved from textual criticism to literary criticism. Literary criticism arose in the study of the narrative books in the OT and the NT. This analysis was designed to discover the historical process through which the biblical documents came into existence. Duplications in OT stories led to the isolation of strands of narrative tradition •See Patte, Structural Exegesis<., pp. 1-20. To understand how the term "paradigm" is being used in this section, see Kuhn, Scientific Revolutions, pp. 10-51. 7 See W. G. Kiimmel, The New Testament: The History of the Investigations of its Problems (Nashville: Abingdon, 1972), pp. 40-50. B. M. Metzger, The Text of the New Testament: Its Transmission, Corruption and Restoration (New York: Oxford University Press, 1964), pp. 95-246. VERNON K. ROBBINS which had been incorporated into the narrative books, and chronological dates were established for these strands in order to facilitate the reconstruction of the history of Israel. 8 Extensive word for word agreement between Matthew, Mark, and Luke convinced NT interpreters that some kind of direct literary dependence existed between these Gospels. Extensive analysis produced the majority view that Matthew and Luke had used copies of Mark and a sayings source as they composed their Gospels. Chronological dates were as.signed to these sources, and this dating became an important ingredient for writing the history of earliest Christianity. 9 Literary analysis was performed in direct consort with historical perceptions. While the text critic had accepted the challenge to write the history of the textual variants, the literary critic analyzed the biblical books to discover the sources which had been used for their composition. By assigning da.tes to the sources, new insight was gained into the history of Israel and early Christianity. The historical paradigm began to raise even further possibilities for uncovering the detailed history of Israel and early Christianity. Reasonable success with textual criticism and literary criticism encouraged the interpreter to write the history of individual sayings and stories from their earliest setting to their incorporation into a source which was used by a later author. The earliest setting for these materials was perceived to be oral, and form criticism arose as the method whereby information about the oral settings was gathered. The form critic searched for the situation in the life of the people in which the saying or story received its particular form. 1 ° For the form critic, the conclusions about the existence of written sources 8 See 0. Eiss£eldt, The Old Testament: An Introduction (New York: Harper and Row, 1965), pp. 171-!'l09, 219-241. •See P. Feine, J. Behm, W. G. Kiimmel, Introduction to the New Testament (Nashville: Abingdon, 1966), pp. 88-58, 70-71, 84, 105-106, 132-188. 10 See Old Testament Form Criticism, ed. J. H. Hayes (San Antonio: Trinity University, 1974); W. G. Doty, Contemporary Nmo Testament Interpretation (Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall, 1972), pp. 58-69; McKnight, Form Criticism, pp. 21-88, 51-56. . STRUCTURALISM: BIBLE AND THEOLOGY 353 had to be accommodated to the results of the history of a saying or story as it was revealed through form analysis. The form critic applied his analytical tools within the framework of textual and literary criticism, and the challenge was to use each method as a complement to the other for the purpose of clarifying aspects of the history of the religious community. The most recent literary-historical method has been redaction or composition criticism. 11 This method arose from an interest in displaying the forces at work in the composition of the final documents. Analysis of manuscripts, literary sources, and oral forms had left the documents without holistic interpretation. The redaction critic begins by accumulating information with regard to the alteration and rearrangement which an author performed on a written source (editing or redacting) and he moves on to observe the characteristic vocabulary and phraseology of the author (style of composition). In addition, the interpreter gathers statistics about characteristic vocabulary and phraseology, and he analyzes the structure and arrangement of stories and sayings. These data are the basis for identifying the literary, theological, social, and historical forces at work as the author composed the document. With this methodology, literary analysis within a historical paradigm has come full circle. The initial concern was the exact wording of each verse, and this analysis led deeper and deeper into the history that produced parts of the texts until interpreters set the goal of understanding the complex factors which were at work in the composition of entire books. During the past one hundred years, these methods have gradually attained the status of being central for understanding biblical literature with integrity. 12 These disciplines were nurtured by Protestantism, and they have become a standard feature of Roman Catholic biblical interpretation. 13 This is the See N. Perrin, Redaction Criticism, pp. Van A. Harvey, The HisfJorian and the Believer (New York: Macmillan, 1966) . The subtitle of the book is " The Morality of Historical Knowledge and Christian Belief." "R. E. Brown, J. A. Fitzmyer, R. E. Murphy, The Jerome Biblical, Commentary (Englewood Cliffs, N. J.: Prentice-Hall, 1968), p. xvii: "It is no secret that the 11 12 354 VERNON K. ROBBINS manner in which a paradigm establishes itself within a mature discipline of study and research. 14 Within this paradigm, literary-historical analysis has been considered the natural base for a hermeneutic of the biblical texts. If the steps from exegesis· to theology are difficult, the theologian has accepted the task with courage and creativity. Especially during the last 25 years, however, biblical interpreters have been searching for broader methods to explore literary, theological and religious-philosophical aspects of the biblical material. Amos Wilder has persistently encouraged a more general literary approach to NT literature, and his proposal has borne rich fruit during the last decade. 15 Ernst Fuchs and Gerhard Ebeling have searched for a more theological method of interpretation based on the power of " word," and their efforts are manifest in a number of works consciously unfolding a "theological hermeneutic." 16 Also, biblical interpreters have been aware that Edmund Leach wrote essays on " The Legitimacy of Solomon " and " Genesis as Myth " using a " structural anthropological" method. 11 But only within the last five years last fifteen or twenty years have seen almost a revolution in Catholic biblical studies-a revolution encouraged by authority, for its Magna Carta was the encyclical Divina Af]lante Spiritu (1943) of Pope Pius XII. The principles of literary and historical criticism, so long regarded with suspicion, are now, at last, accepted and applied by Catholic exegetes." Cf. Ktimmel, New Testament: The History, pp. Ul0-406; Krentz, Historical-Critical Method, pp. 1-5. 14 Kuhn, Scientific Revolutions, pp. 10-34. 15 Amos Wilder, Early Christian Rhetoric: The Language of the Gospel (Cambridge: Harvard University, 1971); Grace Confounding (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1972); Theopoetic: Theology and thtJ Rdigious Imagination of Our Time (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1976); Dan 0. Via, Jr., The Parables: Their Literary and Existential Dimension (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1967); J. D. Crossan, In Parables (New York: Harper & Row, 1973); R. C. Tannehill The Sw01·d of His Mouth (Philadelphia and Missoula: Fortress and Scholars, 1975); R. W. Funk, Jesus as Precursor (Philadelphia and Missoula: Fortress and Scholars, 1975); N. Perrin, Jesus and the Language of the Kingdom (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1976) . 16 E. Fuchs, Zum Hermeneutischem Problem in de;r Theologie; Die existentiale Interpretation (Ttibingen: Mohr, 1959); G. Ebeling, Introduction to a Theological Theory of Language (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1973); R. W. Funk, Language, Hermeneutic, and Word of God (New York: Harper & Row, 1966); P. J. Achtemeier, An Introduction to the New Hermeneutic (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1969). 17 E. Leach," Legitimacy of Solomon: Some Structural Aspects of Old Testament STRUCTURALISM: BIBLE AND THEOLOGY 355 has " structuralism " become a serious methodological term within the arena of American biblical interpretation. By now, structural exegesis is gaining .such a foothold that biblical interpreters enter into detailed comparison of structural exegesis with literary-historical analyses of the same texts. 18 Instead of understanding biblical texts as compositions arranged over time, the structural exegete perceives biblical literature as the linguistic expression of structures of meaning. These structures of meaning work, in one way or another, among all beings who communicate through language. In other words, as a per.son speaks a sentence and people understand him, so also religious people in Israel and Christianity told stories and recited hymnic or proverbial speech, and people in that cultural area and in many others at later times understood and participated in the meaning which had come to expression in, those texts. The model for under.standing Israel and Christianity, therefore, is language rather than history, and the systematic study of language arises out of the question, " How is it possible for people to cofilmunicate by speaking sounds in a sequence?" When language rather than chronology becomes the model for understanding, the exegete seeks to explain the presence and interrelation of semiological systems in biblical texts. A semiological system is an organized system of signs (semeia). The fundamental semiological system is language. Words are signs which signify meaning referents. 19 A semiological .system is a functional system. Its function is communication. In order for the constituents of a semiological system to function as communicators, they are set forth in structured relations. These structured are semiotic structures, and they reflect underlying meaning structures. History," European Journal of Sociology, 7 (1966), pp. 58-101. Genesis as Myth and Other Essays (London: Jonathan Cape, 1969) . 18 See Interpretation, 28, No. 2 (April, 1974); Semeia:, 1-2 (1974); Structural Analysis and Biblical Exegesis, ed. R. Barthes et al. (Pittsburgh Theological Monograph Series, 8; Pittsburgh: Pickwick, 1974); Biblical Research, 22 (1977). 19 Patte, Structural Exegesis, pp. 27-80. 356 VERNON K. ROBBINS The common ground for the literary-historical exegete and the structural exegete is the text, and both seek to interpret the text with precision. But the structural exegete approaches the text with an interest in its particular expression of structures of meaning which make it possible to understand any text. Structural analysis begins with investigation of a particular semiological system. To analyze a story completely, an interpreter must investigate at least three semiological systems: (a) the narrative system; (b) the cultural or mythical system; and (c) the semantic system. A sample of analysis on the level of the narrative system may demonstrate the procedure. 20 One of the most well worked texts in American circles to establish the fruitfulness of structural exegesis is the parable of the Good Samaritan (Lk 10: 30-35) . Analysis of the parable begins by detecting the basic functions of narration which exist in Lk 10: 30-35. The opening verse (10: 30) relates that a man departs from Jerusalem in anticipation of arriving in Jericho. Thus, the entire story emerges within the structure of departure and arrival, and we expect the final sequence of the story to have emerged out of successful arrival at Jericho. Since the final verse (10: 35) relates that the man is still at an inn and has not yet arrived at Jericho, the entire story occurs within the departure/ arrival structure which was introduced in the first verse. The structuralist starts, then, with the initial observation that departure / arrival is a basic function within narrativity. Interruption of the arrival of the man in Jericho creates the setting in which other people participate in the action. Robbers, a priest, a Levite, and a Samaritan come into the story from somewhere (we do not know from where), and the first three arrive and depart. But the structural interpreter perceives that there is a different dynamic within the arrival and departure of these people. Arrival of the robbers brought about a confrontation between the robbers and the traveling man, and ••This analysis is based on ibid., pp. 37-41. The initial debates over the structural analysis of the Parable of the Good Samaritan are found in Semeia STRUCTURALISM: BIBLE AND THEOLOGY 857 through this confrontation they deprived the man of his ability to continue traveling. Here the structuralist perceives five more functions: confrontation, conjunction/ disjunction, deprivation/ attribution, mandating/ acceptance or refusal, and domination/ submission. The robbers confronted the traveling man and deprived him of the physical well-being which gave him the power to travel. Through this action the narration raises a mandate for someone to help the wounded man. As the priest, Levite, and Samaritan arrive, the question is whether or not they will conjoin with the wounded man and attempt to attribute to him that of which he has been deprived (health) or disjoin from the wounded man to go on their way. In other words, confrontation has interrupted the departure / arrival structure. Through confrontation, the traveling man was deprived of the ability to continue the initial structure of departure / arrival. Both the priest and Levite disjoin the action, thus refusing the mandate raised by the action. The Samaritan conjoins with the action, accepts the mandate raised by the narration, and attempts to attribute to the wounded man that of which he has been deprived. As the narrative ends, it appears that the story will not allow the action of the robbers to dominate. The story teller presents a protagonist who dominates (potentially) over the robbers. This analysis suggests that six meaning structures underlie the narrative account: (1) departure/ arrival; (2) confrontation; (8) deprivation/ attribution; (4) mandating/ acceptance or refusal; (5) conjunction/ disjunction; and (6) domination/ .submission. This analysis implies that we understand this story because we understand these meaning structures. The goal of the analysis has simply been to discover the meaning structures which we use. When we have discovered the meaning structures which make it possible for us to understand the story, then we can move beyond the narrative system to other semiological systems. Before moving on, however, we must take one more look at the structure of narrativity. Through the action in the story, 358 VERNON K. ROBBINS someone is attempting to communicate a message to a listener. Therefore, the act of telling the story, or writing it, introduces another meaning structure: communication/reception. As soon as we hear or read the first words of the story, we know that someone wants to communicate a message by telling a story. Or, if we do not" know" this, we" presuppose" it. The structural exegete brings this presupposition to systematic expression, and thus a seventh meaning structure underlies this narrative account: communication / reception. If a person perceives this analysis of the parable of the Good Samaritan to be entirely foreign to his or her sensibilities, one of the reasons may be that he or she has usually come to the Bible with literary-historical questions. In fact, literary-historical understanding has become the important base for nurturing a life of faith or formulating theology. In other words, not only biblical interpreters but also believers and theologians have thought, spoken, and written primarily within a historical paradigm for understanding. In contrast, structural analysis is conducted out of a desire to understand how communication takes place at all. The presupposition is that if we know how communication takes place, perhaps we can begin to understand the fundamental relation of religious understanding to other kinds of understanding. The analyst is concerned to know what semiological systems make it possible for people to understand the story. Thus, he approaches the text within a linguistic paradigm. If, through analysis, he discovers the way in which systems of communication are functioning in biblical material, comparison of this material with other material anywhere and everywhere may help us to understand with precision the likenesses and differences which exist, in terms of structures of meaning, between biblical literature and other literature, both religious and secular. BIBLICAL ANALYSIS IN A NEW KEY Once the structural e:x;egete begins to analyze a story to display the systems of communication which function in it, he or STRUCTURALISM: BIBLE AND THEOLOGY 359 she may choose to proceed in a number of different ways. In the analysis of the parable of the Good Samaritan, Patte prefers to use a model of narrative structure proposed by A.-J. Greimas. 21 This model applies the principle of binary opposition to the spheres of action of the main characters in the story. In turn, Greimas'.s work is an extension, with modifications, of V. Propp's analysis of Russian folktales. Propp, desiring to produce a system of classification for folktales, concluded that the functions of the characters rather than thematic features or characters per se, are the constant dimension within narratives. 22 Greimas, on the basis of Propp's analysis. of Russian folktales and E. Souriau's analysis of 200,000 dramatic .situations in classical play.s,23 has applied a rigorous deductive methodology for the purpose of establitihing structural analysis as a theoretical science similar to that of the physicist. 24 Greimas proposes that it is possible to reduce all of the functions within narratives to seven "canonical functions." 25 All of these functions are at least partially man.ifested in the parable of the Good Samaritan, and they have already been introduced in the previous section. The deductive procedure includes one further dimension. The functions of narrative have their matrix within actions of characters. Again, the specific actions and the specific characters are not the point of interest. Underlying all actions and characters are a limited number of roles which any character may 21 A.-J. Greimas, Semantique structural: Recherche de methode (Paris: Larousse, 1966); Du sens: Essais semW.tiques (Paris: Seuil, 1970); "The Interpretation of Myth: Theory and Practice," in Structural Analysis of Oral Tradition, ed. P. Maranda and E. Kongas Maranda (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania, 1971), pp. 81-Ul; "Les actants, les acteurs et les figures," in Semiotique narrative at textuelle, ed. C. Chabrol (Paris: Larousse, 1973) . See Patte, ibid., pp. 22 V. Propp, Morphology of the Folktale (Austin: University of Texas, 1968); " Transformations in Fairy Tales," in Readings in Russian Poetics, ed. L. Matejka and K. Pomorska (Cambridge: Harvard Univ. Press, 1971), pp. 94-114. See P. Ricoeur, "Biblical Hermeneutics," Semeia, 4 (1975), pp. 39-50. 23 E. Souriau, Les deux mille situations dramatiques (Paris: Flammarion, 1950). 2 • See J. Calloud, Structural Analysis of Narrative (Philadelphia and Missoula: Fortress and Scholars, 1976), pp. xi-xv. 25 See ibid., pp. 14-18; Patte, Structural Exegesis, pp. 40-41. 360 VERNON K. ROBBINS fill. For example, the character may be the subject of the action, or he may receive the object of the action. Greimas, using Lucien Tesniere's analysis of a sentence as a drama which includes a process, actors, and circumstances, 26 has constructed an actantial model which reduces all " actantial roles," " spheres of action," or "actants" (varying terminology for the same dimension) to six structural constants. The six actants, plus the direction in which actants influence one another, form the actantial model. The model, with its manifestation in the parable of the Good Samaritan, looks like this: 21 SENDER (?) HELPER (donkey, oil, wine, money, innkeeper) OBJECT (Health) t SUBJECT (Samaritan) RECEIVER (Wounded Man) OPPONENT (Robbers and effect of their action) Using this model, the exegete hopes to display the structure of the overall action which occurs in the narrative. The arrows in the diagram show the direction in which three kinds of underlying action move. Each kind of action is called an axis. The arrows on the top line display the axis of communication in the narrative: a Sender is .sending an Object to a Receiver. In Patte's application of this model to the parable of the Good Samaritan, someone (through Jesus' telling of the story) is attempting to send health (the object) to a wounded man (the receiver) . Patte indicates that the Sender is often hidden or abstract. The Sender of a communication through a story is often God, chance, a society as a whole, or conscience. 28 In this story it would appear to be God or the ideals of the Jewish community as they come to expression through Jesus. The arrow from the Subject to the Object displays the axis of volition: a Samaritan (subject) wants to bestow health (ob26 L. Tesnier.e, Elements de syntaxe 11tructurale (Paris: Klincksieck, 1959). See Ricoeur, "Biblical Hermeneutics," p. 46. 27 Patte, ibid., pp. 41-52; "Structural Network in Narrative: The Good Samaritan," Soundings, 48 (1975), pp. 221-242. 28 Patte, ibid., p. 43. STRUCTURALISM: BIBLE AND THEOLOGY 861 ject). The Subject of the narrative is not the Sender of the communication; rather he projects the Object which the Sender is attempting to send to a Receiver. The arrows on the bottom line display the axis of power: the Subject wants' to do something, but he can only do it if he has the power which enables it. The Opponents of his action are the robbers and the effects of their action. Only if the Samaritan has the power to overcome that which the robbers have done, can his volition become action. The Samaritan has a number of Helpers: know-how, oil, wine, donkey, money, innkeeper. They contribute to his power to overcome the forces which have caused the problem. Immediately the question arises, " What is the value of this analysis for understanding the parable of the Good Samaritan?" Patte admits that this analysis is not yet exegesis, but he considers it to be " the necessary prelude " to a mythical and semantic analysis. The foregoing exploration has analyzed simply the functional and actantial structure of the narrative. Therefore, " meaning" has not yet become the object of the analysis. Patte considers this analytical procedure to provide the means by which subtypes of narrative genre can be identified. Through an extensive application of the actantial model to discover the pattern with which functions and actants are manifested within texts, he envisions the possibility of distinguishing among "evangelical parables, example stories, Jewish parables, and Hellenistic parables " in the field of NT study. 20 The dominance of a particular subtype of narrative within Christianity or Judaism would contribute to our understanding of the basic message communicated by these historic groups. FROM NARRATIVE STRUCTURE TO MYTHICAL AND SEMANTIC STRUCTURE For the structuralist, exegetical results begin to appear when the analysis moves to the level of mythical structure and semantic structure (the second and third semiological systems). Ex29 Ibid., p. 362 VERNON K. ROBBINS actly how the analysis should move from narrative structure to these two other levels of structure is a matter of some debate. Patte suggests thatLevi-Strauss's transformational model, which displays a fundamental opposition and its resolution through a series of secondary oppositions, should be the means of making the transition to the mythical structure. 30 Levi-Strauss proposed that the trickster figure in American mythology could be understood through this model: Initial Polarity Life First Triad Second Triad Agriculture Herbivorous animals Carrion-eating animals (raven; coyote) Hunting Beasts of prey Warfare Death The initial opposition in the cultural setting is Life vs. Death. This opposition can be mediated only through a cultural form which admits a mediator. When agriculture becomes the functional form of life and warfare the functional form of death, mediation is possible through hunting. Hunting can mediate because it shares an aspect both of warfare and agriculture which agriculture and warfare do not share with each other. An equivalent function is shared by warfare and hunting: killing. An equivalent object is shared by hunting and agriculture: food. Therefore, the hunter has the potential for relationships with both the warrior and the farmer which the warrior and farmer do not naturally have with each other. But the hunter and the farmer become opponents within the cultural setting, and this creates the need for further mediation. In the American mythology, the mediation is expressed through stories where carrion-eating so C. Levi-Strauss, " The Structural Study of Myth," in Structural Anthropology (Anchor Books; New York: Doubleday, 1967), pp. 202-228. See Patte, ibid., pp. 76-83. STRUCTURALISM: BIBLE AND THEOLOGY 868 animals (ravens and coyotes) are featured as trickster figures. In these stories, beasts of prey are equivalent to hunters, and herbivorous animals are equivalent to farmers. Beasts of prey kill animals for food. Herbivorous animals gather plants for food. Carrion-eating animals gather (but do not kill) animals for food. Therefore, carrion-eaters share the same food with beasts of prey but function like herbivorous animals in the manner in which they procure their food. Patte wishes to move from his analysis of narrative structure in the parable of the Good Samaritan to an analysis of the mythical structure, using Levi-Straus's transformational model. Patte abstracts the model in this form for the transition: 31 Initial Polarity First -A 1 Triad -A2 Second Triad -Aa B2 BB +As Third Triad -A4 B4 +A4 +A1 For Patte, the parable of the Good Samaritan manifests only the poles of the second triad (-A 3 and +A3), and by a reverse process of analysis he posits the poles of the first triad (-A 2 and +A2) . The story does not allow one to know the poles of the initial opposition (-A 1 and +A1). Since his actantial analysis reveals that the Samaritan is the Subject of the story, Patte proposes that the Samaritan rep rents +A3. Using LeviStrauss' formula for the transition, he decides that the mythical structure is: 32 81 D. Patte, " Comments on the article of John Dominic Crossan," Semeia, 2 (1974)' p. 119. 82 Ibid., pp. 79-82; " Structural Network," pp. 239-240. 364 Initial Polarity -A1 (?) VERNON K. ROBBINS First Triad -A2 (robbers) B2 (equivalent to Samaritan) +A2 (ideal religious person) Second Triad -Aa (wounded man) BB (healed man) +Aa (Samaritan) +A1 (?) The mediating element (B3 ) , according to Patte's analysis, is not expressed in the parable of the Good Samaritan. Its absence suggests that the parable is a polemic genre which confronts an established myth with a new myth. The reconciliation and mediation offered by the Jewish myth are not valid; Jesus and early Christianity introduce a specific alternative-eschatological myth. Only this alternative myth offer.s true reconciliation and mediation. 83 If a person were to accept this diagram as illuminating how the parable of the Good Samaritan mediates polarities in Palestinian society, 84 then he or she has a means of talking about a mythical or cultural structure which has manifested itself in NT literature. Many other stories should be manifestations of this same cultural structure. It is important to notice, however, that Patte has attempted to move from narrative structure to mythical structure without any analysis at the level of semantic (elementary or deep) structure. For this reason he does not attempt to fill in the terms for the initial pole in the transformational model. The initial polarity can be revealed Patte, "Comments," pp. 119-l!H. •• A revision of this application of the transformational model to the Parable of the Good Samaritan is presented below. 83 STRUCTURALISM: BIBLE AND THEOLOGY 365 only by analysis at the level of the semantic semiological system. Dan Via has undertaken an energetic project to uncover the structure of the semantic semiological system at work in NT literature. He, like Patte, accepts Levi-Strauss's hypothesis that a basic polarity is mediated within a cultural setting by myths which reflect transformations. Via proposes that Christian texts derive from a binary structure at the semantic (elementary or deep) level which takes a holistic, generic form at the mythical (cultural) level. The binary principle is death / resurrection (new life) and the generic form is tragicomedy. Via considers death / resurrection to be a fundamental polarity underlying Hosea, the Pauline letters, the Gospel of Mark, and Aristophanes's comic plays. This binary feature, then, is manifest in Israelite culture, Hellenic culture, and Greco-Roman culture. Displaying all the forms of this polarity on a grid, Via unfolds the transformations of death / resurrection as this structure is expressed in the literature available to us. In the Israelite literature this opposition is expressed as: unclean I clean; far I near; disobedience I obedience; lose land I keep land; not listen I hear; disobey I obey; be deceived I know; forget I remember; perish from the. land I possess land; die I live; 85 Israel's rebellion I prophet's struggle with Israel and God; abandonment/ word; God destroys I God restores. 86 In the Hellenic culture the polarity is expressed primarily as: contest (agon) /victory procession ( marriage) .87 In the NT literature it is expressed as: death/ resurrection; cross I word; foolishness I wisdom; weakness I power; letter I spirit; verbal conflict with hostile authorities I victory in debate and assertion of authority. In the Gospel of Mark, this structure manifests itself in the generic form of tragicomedy. 88 Around the turn of the century, the Religionsgeschichtliche Schule attempted to establish a causal-genetic relation between + ••Dan 0. Via, Jr., Kerygma and Comedy in the New Testament: A Structuralist Approach to Hermeneutic (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1975), p. 60. •• Ibid., p. 51. 87 Ibid., pp. 45-51. 88 Ibid., pp. 40-45, 54-66, 71-108. 366 VERNON K. ROBBINS the dying-rising motif in Mediterranean literature and deathresurrection in the NT literature. Literary-historical interpreters insisted that direct literary influence had to be proven to uphold this hypothesis, and analysis of the vocabulary from Israelite traditions and conceptions from contemporary Jewish beliefs denied the hypothesis any dominant status among biblical interpreters. Via approaches the same motif from the standpoint of the elementary binary structure of the human mind. His thesis is that death / resurrection, a fundamental mode of thought among human beings, manifested itself in the dominant cultural group within the Mediterranean world.89 Therefore, the Paull.ne letters and the Gospel of Mark manifest an essential aspect of the semantic (or elementary) structure of human thought which found various forms of expression in the Mediterranean world. Since the structuralist asserts that each level of analysis should help to illuminate the other levels of analysis, Via's analysis should contribute to Patte's analysis. Via's analysis suggests that the initial polarity in Patte's transformational model is death/ new life. This polarity emerges from the semantic (elementary or deep) structure which dominated Mediterranean culture. The parable of the Good Samaritan should reflect this semantic structure at the mythical and narrative levels. Therefore, Patte's transformational model should display death / resurrection in the generic / mythical mode of tragicomedy. Patte's analysis of the canonical functions and his construction of the actantial model will represent the manifestation of the semantic and mythical structures at the surface level of narrative parable. Via's analysis challenges Patte's analysis of the mythical structure of the parable of the Good Samaritan. Primarily, it calls into question Patte's conclusion that the wounded man represents the negative pole of the second triad (-A8) . Application of Via's analysis to Patte's transformational model would result in a model which looks like this: •• Ibid., p. 40. STRUCTURALISM: Initial Polarity -At (New Life) +A1. (Death) 867 BIBLE AND THEOLOGY First Triad -A; (ideal religious person) Second Triad -As (Priest and Levite) n2 (wounded man) +As (Samaritan) (equivalent to Samaritan, e.g., rejected prophet) +A2 (robbers, prostitutes, tax collectors) Ba In other words, perhaps the wounded man is the means by which the opposition between the Jerusalem temple clientele (priest and Levite) and Samaritans (who have a temple on Mt. Gerizim) is mediated. Robbers, prostitutes, and tax collectors would share with the rejected prophet in being ostracized by society. The rejected prophet would have in common with the ideal religious person his claim to religious authority in society. Thus, the rejected prophet is a mediator between the ideal religious people and religious outcasts. The Samaritan is the functional equivalent of the rejected prophet, and the Priest and Levite are the functional equivalents of the ideal religious person. The wounded man can be a mediator. He holds in common with Samaritans an experience of rejection and assault, and he holds in common with the priest and Levite an association with Jerusalem, the center of Judean history and worship. If this construction of the transformational model were accepted by both Via and Patte, then we would possess a detailed analysis of the parable of the Good Samaritan at all levels: narrative, mythical, and semantic. Few, if any, complete analyses exist, however, since this kind of analysis of biblical literature 368 VERNON K. ROBBINS is still in its infancy. It will undoubtedly take a number of years before structural analysis of biblical literature attains the kind of maturity reflected by literary-historical analysis. Types of structural analysis different from those presented in this article will be developed and applied. Already, a non-binary structural approach has been developed to analyze the relationships between various types of gods, leaders, servants, victims, etc. 40 Modified forms of structural analysis which use insights from Freud and Aristotle have also been introduced. 41 FROM STRUCTURAL EXEGESIS TO THEOLOGY At last the question arises: " What is the direct import of structural biblical interpretation for theology? " 42 Undoubtedly the most energetic answer to this question is being formulated by Erhardt Giittgemanns. 48 He asserts that theology must be formulated on the basis of a " Generative Poetics." This means that theology can and should be formulated out of the principles and conclusions which result from a " semantic grammar." In other words, as we now possess grammars describing the way in which biblical languages function, so also a grammar can be developed which explains the manner in which biblical meaning functions. When a thorough structural exegesis of biblical tradition has been achieved, then a grammar of biblical meaning can be established. After this is accomplished, theology can be generated by transforming biblical meaning into modern cultural forms. "Theology thereby becomes the science of the •• David L. Petersen and Mark Woodward, "Northwest Semitic Religion: A Study of Relational Structures," Ugarit-Forachunge:n, 9 (1977). 41 E. g., Rene Girard, La violence et le sacre (Paris: B. Grasset, 197Yl), asserts that the fundamental mythical structure of culture is " collective victimage." 42 If biblical interpretation has any relation to theology, then much of the preceding has at least implicit ramifications for the theological enterprise. I must, at the outset of this section, indicate my gratitude to my colleague, Edward A. Yonan, who gave generously of his time to discuss the implications of structuralism for theology and philosophy of religion. ••Four of his essays have been published in English translation with the title, " Erhardt Giittgemanns' ' Generative Poetics '," Semeia, 6 (1976). STRUCTURALISM: BIBLE AND THEOLOGY 369 operations and transformations between texts ' given ' to us in the tradition and texts to be ' produced ' today ... " 44 There is another aspect of Giittgemanns's work which is just as striking as the emphasis on " Generative Poetics," and he shares this with structuralists like Jean Calloud and Daniel Patte. The mode of analysis adopted by these three men reflects a theoretical orientation which has many features in common with the "transcendental theology " of Bernard Lonergan. All four share the desire to formulate a theory which approximates the contemporary standards of scientific theorizing. This leads to an equation of their structural method with that of algebra and physics. It also emphasizes that scientific pursuit is simply the systematic application of principles derived from common sense and that the goal is to develop a unified science for all disciplines of study. 45 Within this theoretical framework, these men share a series of presuppositions. First, they perceive explanation and understanding to exist in hierarchical levels. Knowledge is gathered and reflected upon in qualitatively different ways depending on the level of analysis. Second, equivalent structures exist in myriads of places throughout different spheres of knowledge. This leads to "isotopic" or "isomorphic" analysis. 47 Third, models, lists, diagrams, and graphs are essential heuristic tools to' be used in analysis, because they are initial abstractions of reality which stimulate detailed research and call for synthetic explanation. 48 Fourth, all of these men are interested in functional analysis. Aspects of human activity which have previ44 lbid., p. 3. D. Patte seems to envision something similar to this in Structural Exegesis, p. 75. ••Bernard Lonergan, Method Theology (New York: Herder & Herder, 1972), pp. 3-6, 25; Giittgemanns, " Generative Poetics," pp. 9, 12; Calloud, Structural Analysis, pp. xii, 44; Patte, Structural Exegesis pp. 18-19, 77-80., 84; "Structural Network," pp. 226, 233-240, 241, n. 3. ••Lonergan, ibid., pp. 9-10; Giittgemanns, ibid., pp. 4-5, 8; Calloud, ibid., pp. 7-8; Patte, Structural Exegesis, pp. 22-23, 25-27, 33-34, 37, 58-59. «Lonergan, ibid., p. 21; Giittgemanns, ibid., pp. 5-6. ••Lonergan, ibid., p. 22; Giittgemanns, ibid., p. 9; Calloud, ibid., pp. 6-7; Patte, Structural Exegesis, pp. 36, 41-51, 59, 84; "Structural Network," pp. 22-23. m 370 VERNON K. ROBBINS ously been misunderstood can now be illuminated by description of their function. A notable di:ffereneebetween Lonergan's programmatic work and that of Giittgemanns, Calloud, and Patte is manifest in their respective interests in texts. Lonergan apologizes (with tongue in cheek) to the readers of Method in Theology for citing so few Christian texts. 49 He considers the concern with texts to be a " functional specialization " with which he need not deal extensively in a discussion of method. For Giittgemanns, on the other hand, the texts are primary, because they are the basis on which an analytical grammar can be established for writing contemporary theology. It is not clear that Giittgemanns would be satisfied with a description of his work in terms of a functional specialization, since for him the possibility of a " Generative Poetics " both begins and ends with the human being as "communicator." While Lonergan sees the end of his analysis as " communication," his beginning point is not so directly grounded in the human being as a linguistic being. According to Paul Ricoeur, hewever, the fundamenta.1 issue is whether a theologian accepts structuralism as an ideology or as a method which illuminates a segment of reality. Lonergan's transcendental method runs the risk of categorizing dynamic, synthetic fields of research. In other words, it is extremely difficult for a transcendental mode of analysis to maintain contact with the mimetic character of human activity. If a method of investigation cannot maintain this contact, it does not satisfy the demand for reference to human existence which a total science must fulfill. The structural method as applied by Calloud, Patte, and Giittgemanns also runs this risk. Ricoeur proposes to use structural methods to analyze the production of speech, both oral and written. 50 This analysis would clarify religious discourse and reveal the limit-expressions of religious language. This understanding must be linked with understanding of the limit-experiences of human life which emerges from systematic reflection upon symbolic knowledge. The task, then, is to provide " a method of mutual clarification ••Lonergan, ibid., p. xii. 50 Ricoeur, "Biblical Hermeneutics," pp. 66-78, STRUCTURALISM: BIBLE AND THEOLOGY 371 of the limit-expressions of religious language and the limit-experiences of human life." 51 It is possible to develop such a method if we " find concepts which preserve the tension of the symbol within the clarity of the concept." By this means, theology may be formulated as " a conceptual language which preserves the tensive character of symbolic language." 52 Ricoeur suggests that structural analysis should play a decisive role within theology but that theologians should avoid structuralism as an ideology. If theologians accept structuralism as a method, one of the major influences would be upon their use of texts. The recent crisis in theology is, to a great extent, related to the uneasiness theologians experience in using biblical and other texts in their theological systems. As a result, the use of biblicaL texts in theology is more of an art than a science .53 One effect of structural methods can be to provide a means by which the theologian may systematically use insights from religious texts in the formulation of theological discourse. If we think such a theology would be stilted and uncreative, we have yet to encounter the plurality of meanings in language and the manifold structures of meaning in texts. CONCLUSION Structural analysis is rapidly gaining a place alongside other methods in modern biblical interpretation. A major issue appears to be the relationship of structuralist method to structuralist ideology. Daniel Patte asserts that "a preunderstanding of the text is imposed upon the exegete by his culture," 54 recent modern culture possesses a new sensitivity toward a " plurality of meanings," 55 and structural study is the primary means by which a satisfactory hermeneutic can be developed in our time. 56 Erhardt Giittgemanns proposes that a Generative Poetics, esIbid., p. 34. Ibid., p. 36. 53 David H. Kelsey, The Uses of Scripture in Recent Theology (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1975), esp. pp. 158-216. 54 Patte, Structural Exegesis, p. 6. 55 Ibid., p. 14. 50 Ibid., pp. 14-20. 51 52 872 VERNON K. ROBBINS tablished through structural analyses, is " a methodologically and scientifically reflective textual theory that can stand up to contemporary standards 0£ scientific theorizing, succeeding' existential interpretation ' which is the only earlier text theory that has been consistently thought through." 57 Paul Ricoeur claims that structural analysis is successful only i£ it analyzes the text as discourse or discourse as the text. 58 This kind of structural analysis may enrich an existential hermeneutic. 59 If, however, structural analysis is linked with an ideology which " treats any ' message ' as the mere ' quotation ' of its underlying ' code,' " it is " a dead end." 60 The issue underlying these assertions may be stated in another form. Biblical interpretation and theology exist at the interface between religious faith and cultural understanding. Some structuralists possess a neo-medieval interest in a unified science which displays the interrelation 0£ all ways 0£ thinking and acting. Other structuralists may presuppose that religious faith possesses a unique dynamic which precludes the possibility 0£ analyzing its structures in relation to structures 0£ meaning throughout the universe of knowledge and action. Few biblical interpreters are able to ignore the broad hermeneutical questions which hover over their analyses. These questions, implicit or explicit, are opening new fields of research for the exegete. Structural analysis and structuralist ideology have entered the world 0£ the biblical interpreter and the theologian. Only the future will reveal whether this is the harbinger of a decisively new way 0£ understanding reality or whether it is an additional component within the perspective through which twentieth century people already view their world. 61 VERNON K. ROBBINS Univ&rsity of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Giittgemanns, "Generative Poetics," p. 13. Ricoeur, "Biblical Hermeneutics," p. 67. 5 • Ibid., p. 64. 60 Ibid., p. 65. 61 I am grateful to the Institute for Ecumenical and Cultural Research at the campus of St. John's University, Collegeville, Minnesota, for providing the congenial setting to begin the research for this article. 57 58 THE SIXTH WAY OF ST. THOMAS AQUINAS W HEN ONE THINKS of arguments for God's existence which SL Thomas Aquinas records with appr01;al,one thinks of a posteriori arguments. Aquinas disapproves of, and argues against 1 the a priori argument of St. Anselm; forcefully and conclusively, in my view. Moreover, the a posteriori arguments one thinks of are arguments whose point of departure is some fact or other observed in the world of sense experience, at least to some extent: the fact of motion, the fact of an order of efficient causes, things for which it is possible to be and not to be, the graded perfections of things, the fact that things without knowledge (natural bodies) act for an end. And not only that, one thinks quite immediately, and most often only, of the Summa Theologiae, I, q. 3, the locus of the Five Ways; sometimes, though considerably less often, one also thinks of the Summa contra Gentiles, Bk. I, ch. 13. Maritain, in describing his own Sixth Way, which he regards as an addition to the Five Ways which Aquinas records in the Summa Theologiae, is careful to point out wherein it differs from the Five. One of the points of difference which he emphasizes is the fact that his Sixth Way is not based on a fact observed in any way in the world of sense experience. It is based, rather, on a peculiar intuition, an intuition intimately connected with an intellectual experience of intellectual experience, with an " experience of the proper life of the intellect." 1 It is during such an experience, Maritain notes, that the intuition on which his Sixth Way is based occurs, the intuition that I, this thinking I, have always existed. 2 And so, whereas the arguments which Aquinas records begin in this way: there exist things in motion 1 Jacques Maritain, Approaches to God (trans. from the French by Peter O'Reilly) (New York: Harper and Brothers Publishers, 1954) p. 73. 2 Ibid., pp. 73-75. 373 374 JOSEPH BOBIK (sensed-observed), or there exists an order of efficient causes (based on sense observation) , etc. through the others of the Five Ways, and then seek to make explicit what is implied by these facts, ultimately the existence of God as the First Unmoved Mover, as the First Uncaused Efficient Cause, etc.; Maritain's Sixth Way begins as follows: there exists an I (namely, I myself) which has always existed (introspectively based, i.e., based on Maritain's inner awareness of intellectual activity) , and then seeks to draw out the implications of this fact, ultimately the existence of God as Being and Thought and Self in pure act. Now, if one goes beyond the Summa Theologiae, I, q. 2, a. 3, and beyond the Summa contra Gentiles, Bk. I, ch. 13, and looks to the Summa Theologiae, I, q. 79, a. 4-an expanded version of which is found in the De Spiritualibus Creaturis, a. 10-, one finds there a discussion, part of which (and a part which is only instrumental to the main point of the article) is an argument for the existence of God, also an a posteriori argument, but one which is closer to Maritain's Sixth Way in its point of departure than it is to any of the Five Ways. The point of departure here is an introspective one, though clearly not an intuition that the I has always existed, a point of departure based on a fact which any man can experience about himself as a knower: that he abstracts universal forms from their particular conditions, thereby making them actually intelligible. 3 The purpose of this paper is to consider the text of the Summa Theologiae, I, q. 79, a. 4, along with its expansion in the • The actual use to which Aquinas puts this introspectively based claim in the Summa Theologiae, I, q. 79, a.4, c., and in the De Spiritualibus Creaturis, a.10, is this: he employs it as evidence for his view that the agent intellect is "aliquid animae," a power which inheres in the human soul, as opposed to being a separated substance, as in the view of Avicenna and Averroes. He does not, as a matter of fact, employ it as the point of departure for this argument for God's existence. What he employs in this way is rather the introspectively based claims that 1) the human soul has an imperfect intellect, !'2) which gets at the truth by a kind of movement, and 3) is intellectual by participation. But there is a connection between the latter three claims, on the one hand, and the former, on the other hand; as will become clear below, pp. 381-8!'2. THE SIXTH WAY OF AQUINAS 375 De Spi,ritualib'USC1·eaturis, a. 10, with a view to presenting, and making as clear as possible, the argument for God's existence contained in it. Let us call this argument the Sixth Way of St. Thomas Aquinas, by way of similarity to, as well as distinction from, the Sixth Way of Maritain. It is not being claimed that Aquinas himself would ever have used this argument as an ex professo argument for God's existence; that would perhaps be a difficult claim to substantiate, and in any case it is philosophically irrelevant. The attempt here is to present the argument, to reformulate its premises for reasons of economy and clarity of presentation, and to make as clear as possible the evidence which Aquinas gives, or would give, for their truth. Before proceeding to the task, it will be helpful to quote, and to set out in a way; which will facilitate comparisons between them, the relevant portions of the texts of the Summa Theologiae and of the De Spi,ritualib'USCreaturis. The Summa Theologiae, I, q. 79, a. 4, c. The De Spiritualibus Creaturis, a. 10, c. It is necessary that there be above the intellectual soul of man a superior intellect, from which the soul obtains the power of understanding. It is necessary that there be above the soul of man an intellect on which its intellectual act'lvity depends; that this must be so can be made clear in three ways. First of all, because whatever belongs to something by participation is, prior to that, in something else substantially; e. g., if iron is on fire, it would be necessary that there be something which is fire by its own substance and nature. Now the soul of man is intellectual by participation; for it does not engage in intellectual activity with any or all of its parts, but only with its highest part. It is necessary, therefore, that there be something above the soul which is an intellect according to its whole nature, from which the intellectuality of the soul derives, and on which its intellectual activity depends. Secondly, because it is necessary that there be prior to every mobile thing something which is immobile with repect to that motion; e. g., above all al- For what is such by participation, and what is mobile, and what is imperfect, always requires something prior to itself which is such by its essence, and which is immobile, and perfect. Now the soul of man is said to be intellectual by participation in intellectual power; a sign of which is the fact that it is not totally intellectual, but only in one of its parts. 376 JOSEPH BOBIK terable things there is something which is not alterable, e. g., a heavenly body; for every motion is caused by something immobile. Moreover, it attains to the understanding of truth with a certain sort of motion, namely that of argumentation. Now the intellectual activity of the soul of man proceeds by a sort of motion; for the soul understands by moving from effects to causes, from causes to effects, from the similar to the similar, and from opposites to opposites. It is necessary, therefore, that there be above the soul an intellect the intellectual activity of which is fixed and at rest and without any discursive movement at all. Thirdly, because it is necessary that actuality be simply prior to potentiality in another, although in one and the same thing potentiality is prior to actuality; and similarly because it is necessary that prior to every imperfect thing there be something which is perfect. It is also such that its intellectual activity is imperfect; both because it does not know all things, and because it passes from potentiality to actuality with respect to those things which it does come to know. It is necessary, therefore, that there be some superior intellect, by which the soul is aided in its activity of understanding. Now the soul of man is in the beginning in potentiality to what is intelligible; and its subsequent intellectual activity is imperfect, because it never in this life attains to the whole of intelligible truth. It is necessary, therefore, that above the soul there be an intellect which is always in a state of actuality, and totally perfect in its understanding of the truth. 1. The main point of the Summa Theologiae, q. 79, a. 4. The main point of this article is to show that the agent intellect is " aliquid animae," i. e., a power found in the human soul, by way of opposition to the view of Avicenna and Averroes, among others, that the agent intellect is a separated entity, i.e., not in the human soul as one of its powers. The discussion in the body of the article may be summarized as follows: . a) There must be, above the human intellectual soul, a superior intellect, from which the soul obtains its power of THE SIXTH WAY OF AQUINAS 377 understanding.-The argument for this claim can be taken, it seems to me, as the analytic portion 4 of an argument for the existence of God as something which is an Immobile and Perfect Intellect Per Se. b) Some (e.g., Avicenna and Averroes) have claimed that this separated superior intellect is the agent intellect, and that its function is to illuminate phantasms, thereby making them actually intelligible. c) But, even if one grants that there is such a separated agent intellect, one must also grant that there must be " in ipsa anima humana," intri"nsW to the human soul itself, a power by which it makes phantasms actually intelligible. Two reasons are given for this claim. 1) In the case of other natural things, there are also, besides their universal agent causes, the proper and intrinsic powers of the individual things themselves, derived of course from their universal causes. For example, it is not the sun alone which generates man; but there is in individual men a power by which they generate other individual men. Now, there is nothing in the physical world more perfect than the human soul. And so, if less perfect things are endowed with their appropriate intrinsic powers, the human soul too must be endowed with its own appropriate intrinsic power, derived of course from some superior intellect (a universal agent cause with respect to individual human souls) by which (power) the human soul can illuminate phantasms, thereby making them actually intelligible. Q) We know that there is such a power in us by experience with ourselves as knowers, when we perceive that we abstract universal forms from particular conditions, which is to make phantasms actually intelligible. Now, activities belong to things only by virtue of principles which are formally intrinsic to them. " Therefore, it is necessary that the power which is the principle of this action be something intrinsic to the soul." 5-1£ one formulates this second reason as follows: 4 See below, section pp. 378-79, for the meaning of " analytic portion." And for the argument which can be taken as the analytic portion, see below, section 3, pp. 379-80. 5 Unless otherwise noted, all quotations from Aquinas in this paper are from the Summa Theologiae, I, q. 79, a. 4, c., i.e., the body of the article. 378 JOSEPH BOBIK "We abstract universal forms from particular conditions;" and if one then points out that this is an empirical, claim (Aquinas says: " ... experimento cognoscimus ... ", " ... we know this by experience ... ") whose truth is based on our experience, introspective, with ourselves as knowers; then this second reason can be taken, it seems to me, as the synthetic premise 6 of an argument for the existence of God as an Immobile and Perfect Intellect Per Se. 2. " Synthetic premise " and " analytic portion " in a posteriori arguments for God's existence A brief word of explanation is in order with respect to my employment of the expressions " synthetic premise " and " analytic portion." By " synthetic premise " I understand a proposition whose truth (or falsity) 7 is established on the basis of experience, whether sense-observational or introspective. Every a posteriori argument for the existence of God has at least one synthetic premise. For example: " There exist things in motion " is the synthetic premise of the First Way; its truth is based on sense observation; " There exists an order of efficient causes " is the synthetic premise of the Second Way; its truth too is based on sense observation. The synthetic premise of an a posteriori argument has a twofold task: 1) it asserts existence of something given to experience, and fl) attributes some feature to that of which it has asserted existence. In the First Way, for example, being in motion is the feature attributed to the physical things whose existence has been asserted. By " analytic portion " I understand a set of propositions the truth (or falsity) 8 of each of which is based on analysis, i.e., • See below, section for the meaning of " synthetic premise." And for further comments with respect to the synthetic premise of this argument for God's existence, see below, section 3, a, p. 379. •Though both truth and falsity of synthetic propositions cau be established on the basis of experience (i. e., the truth of the true ones, and the falsity of the false ones), it is clear that the synthetic premise of an argument for the truth of the claim that God exists ought to be a true one. • As m the case of synthetic propositions, here too, both the truth of true analytic propositions and the falsity of false ones can he established by the THE SIXTH WAY OF AQUINAS 879 on the meanings of terms alone, 9 without any recourse to experience. In the First Way, for example, the analytic portion consists of the two interrelated propositions: 1) Whatever is in motion is moved by another, and 2) Seoondary movers do not move unless they are moved by a first mover,. the truth of each of which is established without any recourse to experience. The task of the analytic portion of an a posteriori argument is to make explicit what is implied by the feature (e.g., being in motion for the First Way) attributed to some existing thing (s) in the synthetic premise. The First Way pursues, and completes, its analytic task in terms of what it does for, and with, the two propositions just noted. S. Synthetic premise and analytic portion in Aquinas's Sixth Way a) Synthetic premise: "I exist as a thing which understands by abstracting universal forms from particular conditions." There are two things to be noted here. 1) In order to avoid the difficulties some have had with respect to our knowledge of other minds, I think it better to formulate the synthetic premise here in terms of " I," instead of in terms of " We," as it was formulated above in section 1. 2) The feature being attributed in this synthetic premise is: thing whfoh un KpafJ'i>) of the qualities. 5 One can note several familiar ideas in this passage. For one, there are the familiar opposites of Pre-Socratic philosophy which were eventually (by Empedocles) reduced to four (cold•The translation is taken from T. J. Tracy, S. J., Phyl!Wlogical Theory and the Doctrine of the Mean in Plato and Aristotle (Chicago: Loyola Univ. Press, 1969), 22-23. The original fragment is 24B4 in Diels-Kranz, Die Fragmente der Vorsokratiker, 6th revd. ed., 3 vols. (Berlin: Weidmann, 1952). Tracy's study, it should be noted, is the most exhaustive work on its topic, and it contains abundant textual evidence and support. MEDICAL PARADIGM IN ARISTOTELIAN ETHICS 405 hot, wet-dry) and linked with the four elements (earth, air, fire, water) to become the ultimate building blocks of Aristotle's universe. 6 As soon as these are introduced, moreover, we are made aware of the need for a correct mixture. Whereas, in Aristotle, there is a cosmological exigency for this to occur, here it is required in order to have a healthy, properly-functioning organism. Disease is explained as the dominance of one opposite over the others, its 'self-assertion' over the rest, its 'refusal to take its proper place', as it were. We also note that the opposites are said to be powers and that they are both external and internal to the organism: the equilibrium of the organism is composed of a certain ratio or balance of opposites, as is the world outside of itself in which it is located. Hence, that external world may play as important a role in its health as its own internal states. The ideal condition is one where the disparate elements are ' blended ' in a proper mixture.7 Empedocles and Diogenes tended to mix the general theory of opposites with cosmological speculation-evinced by the (arbitrary, perhaps) reduction oi basic qualities to four, or the giving of supremacy to one (Diogenes's air) over the rest. Our next passage comes from a work of the Corpus Hippocraticum; it is entitled On Ancient Medicine (OAM), and its author argues vigorously against the introduction of ' speculative ' elements into medical theory. He condemns the use oi "empty 8 in medicine as irrelevant postulates " ( and barren, and his own concentration is upon proper diet for producing or maintaining health. An oft-quoted and most significant text from his work is the following: Cf. De gen. et corr. 330a30-b9 and 334b8-335a31. Note the political imagery that is used here in a medical context. G. Vlastos, "Isonomia," American Journal of Philology 74 (1953), 337-66, has proposed that the basic ideas and terms originated in a political context, from which they migrated to medical and ethical contexts later on. See also his " Equality and Justice in Early Greek Cosmologies," Classical Philology 4£ (1947), 156-78. 8 See "On Ancient Medicine" (OAM), in Hippocrates, Opera, Vol. I, trans. by W. H. S. Jones, Loeb Classical Library No 5£: 1 (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard Univ. Press, 1948), c. I, £0-£1, pp. 1£-15. 6 7 406 MICHAEL J. SEIDLER ... Depletion produces many other evils, different from those of repletion, but just as severe. Wherefore the greater complexity of these ills requires a more exact method of treatment. For it is necessary to aim -at some measure. But no measure, neither number nor weight, by reference to which knowledge can be made exact, can be found except bodily feeling. Wherefore it is laborious to make knowledge so exact that only small mistakes are made here and there. And that physician who makes only small mistakes would win my hearty praise. Perfectly exact truth is but rarely to be seen. For most physicians seem to me to be in the same case as bad pilots; the mistakes of the latter are unnoticed so long as they are steering in a calm, but, when a great storm overtakes them with a violent gale, all men realise clearly then that it is their ignorance and blundering which have lost the ship. 11 This author assumes the same basic notion of contrariety as did Alcmaeon, and he focuses upon the ideas of depletion and repletion and their correction by dietary measures. He is acutely aware of the difficulties of generalization, and so, even though he speaks of a mark or a measure at which the physician should aim (µhpov TLPO<; crroxaawrBai)' he is wary of taking this in an absolute or general sense. If there is some imbalance of the vital constituents needed for health and proper functioning, the physician must pay close attention to the case at hand-no abstract measure or number will do. Rather, the doctor must gauge the success or failure of his treatment according to the responses (a'tuBriaw) of the individual patient. The whole point of medical treatment is to make ' this man ' or ' that man ' as healthy as can be-as he can be- here and now, and to treat him according to general rules as an idealized case might kill him or simply leave him .sick as he is.10 There is a great stress • OAM, IX, 9-29, pp. 26-29. Although the author of OAM concentrates on diet, other factors were also considered important in producing and preserving health. There are tracts in the Corpus Hippocraticum dealing specifically with proper exercise and the right external environment. See Tracy, 82-76, for a careful analysis of OAM and some of these other works. 10 See OAM, X ff., where the author .emphasizes the different constitutions and states of men. One must begin treatment on the proper level and achieve the best one can there, before moving on. The ancient physicians were well aware of the need for individual consideration and distinguished between ' absolute ' and 'relative ' health. See Tracy, 72-78 note 56. As we shall see, Aristotle MEDICAL PARADIGM IN ARISTOTELIAN ETHICS 407 on knowledge of all the circumstances in this passage, a sentiment which concurs with the author's anti-hypothesis view. This is also why the image of the pilot is brought to bear: more boats than one have been sunk by 'textbook pilots.' As we shall see, these cautions are all well taken by Aristotle, as well as the later medical tradition. 11 Before moving on to the Nicomachean Ethios in order to view the influence of such medical ideas, we should make a comment or two about Plato. His influence upon Aristotle is usually taken to be ' rationalistic ' ; and we take Aristotle to be ' waxing Platonic ' in precisely those places where he goes beyond the visible, empirical world (at least we say that he is 'least himself ' when he does so) . Hence, it may come as a mild surprise to find that Aristotle's e:µipiricism was probably fostered at the Academy too. Plato's knowledge of Hippocratic method has already been noted. On top of this, there are numerous references to medicine, and constant uses of the doctor as the paradigm of the true artist, throughout the Dialogues. 12 The central account of justice in the Republio is based on a medical model, with its notion of proper role and function being paramount. Much of Plato's medical knowledge was doubtless gained from the Pythagoreans, who combined cosmological theory with moral views and a dietetic regimen. For one, they emphasized strongly the interdependence of physical and psychic health, 13 a notion that Plato also adopted (cf. the use of music in character development in the Republic;, for instance). This Pythamakes a similar distinction between the absolute good and the good relative to each person, and for the same reason. 11 One of the ' later ' doctors was Diodes of Carystos, who may have studied at the Lyceum while Aristotle was still alive, and who certainly was influenced by the principles of Aristotle's empirical method, made formally explicit in the Stagirite's logical works. He is thus an instance of philosophy's retro-action upon medicine. See Jaeger's Diokles von .. . (note 2 above). 12 Cf. GO'l'gias 463e f.; Laws. 720a f. and 857b f. 13 On the Pythagorean role in early medicine, especially the interrelation of physical and psychic health, and the relation of both to religion in a wide sense, see F. Wehrli, "Ethik und Medizin: Zur Vorgeschichte der Aristotelischen Mesonlehre," Museum Helveticum 8 (1951), 56-62. 408 MICHAEL J. SEIDLER gorean influence is pronounced throughout Plato's career, and we can see it very much in the later Philebus and Timaeus. The cosmological theory of mixture in the Philebus is quasi-medical, and it is no accident that, at the end of the dialogue, ' the good ' is found to lie in a mixture of five types of things, the chief of which is "measure" (66a), which is followed by "the beautiful" (ro KaA.6v) •14 Finally, section 69e-86a of the Timaeus is mentioned in the Menon Papyrus 15 along with twenty other medical authorities of the time, and Galen thought it important enough to write a commentary on it. 16 All this .shows that the presence of medical analogies in Aristotle's ethics-actually, his work as a whole-is accounted for in a number of ways, and we need no longer attribute Aristotle's empirical interests to his father's profession or to hi.s zoology course in Asia Minor. His passion for the empirical seems not to have been unaffected by his friends, the Platonists. 14 Aristotle also stressed TO Ka.Mv as that which has supreme worth. ffitimately, moral actions are done for its sake. Although it has been variously rendered as 'the noble' and 'the beautiful', it contains all of these implications and cannot be limited to any one of them alone. It seems that the man who strives to realize To Ka.A.Ov in his life is very close to the Kantian who is filled with 'reverence' towards the moral law and his duty. Cf. EN 1115bl3-14; l099al5 ff.; and 1169al5-b2. 15 Meno was a student of Aristotle who wrote a treatise on previous medical opinionB, much in the vein of Aristotle's own canvasses of his predecessors. The remnants of this work have been published as W. H. S. Jones, The Medical Writings. of Anonymus Londinensis (Cambridge, England: 1947). Meno refers, among others, to Plato's Timaeus (esp. 69e-86a) as a previous medical authority. See Tracy, 25 ff. Another author mentioned by Meno is Philistion of Locri, whom we noted earlier as belonging to the 'Western' stream of medicine. His etiology of diseases is preserved in the document (XX 25 ff., or fr. 4). Philistion was a kind of intermediary figure between Eastern and Western medicine. He had an influence on Plato's Timaeus and is mentioned in the second Platonic epistle (314d ff.). Also, there are vestiges of a tc1eology of nature (6tTis) in his work, an idea which may have influenced Aristotle, especially since the teleology is one towards 'form' (.Xoos). See "Philistion of Locri," in Paulys Real EncycZopadie der Classischen ed. by Wilhelm Kroll, Vol. XIX (Stuttgart: J. B. Metzlersche Verlagsbuchhandlung, 1938), cols. 2405-2408. 16 Sec Tracy, 78. MEDICAL PARADIGM IN ARISTOTELIAN ETHICS 409 II. The Final Good and Man's Function. The influence of medicine on Aristotle's ethics has been viewed from at least two perspectives, one of them 17 concentrating upon general methodic considerations, and the other 18 upon the support rendered by the paradigm to specific Aristotelian positions. Since the former relations are operative in the latter, I shall concentrate on these and seek to show how the medical paradigm, which has been briefly exhibited above, is at work. Hence, the next four sections will he devoted to the study of specific Aristotelian doctrines, in the light of the operative medical model. Medicine is a practical rather than a theoretical science; it is an art, a productive science which has an aim-namely health. Hence, in order to gauge its own success or failure, it must have a notion of the result to he attained before it sets to work. As Aristotle puts it, according to his theory of the four 'causes ', the final cause is prior to the activity; it is the formal cause awaiting and motivating its own actualization. In order that an activity be intelligible, in order that its outcome be understood, there must be a formality that is aimed at (or can later be discerned as goal that has been reached) . In the early medical literature, we find the use of the word ' form ' (ei8os) ,19 which expresses this need. There, as in Aristotle-and Plato (Rep. 353al0 ff.), we find form linked to function. We attain the form of something, produce it, rather, in the thing, when the thing performs its proper function the way it should. The doctor produces health (the form) in the patient when the body of See Jaeger, JHS (note 2 above). See Lloyd, Phronesis (note 2 above). Lloyd notes three examples in Aristotle's ethics where medical and biological analogies are used in a supportive role: (1) the doctrine that man has a function as man; (2) the doctrine that moral excellence is both determinate and yet also relative to individuals; and (3) the conception of the good or morally sound man as the ideal moral standard. See esp. 81-82. 19 See Jaeger, Paideia (note 2 above), 20 and Tracy, 314. At Metaphysics 1032bl-34, Aristotle speaks of ' health' in terms of formal and final causality, a usage which ties in with the doctors' employment of dllos. 17 18 410 MICHAEL J. SEIDLER the latter is f4nctioning properly as a result of treatment. In Plato, the soul and the state achieve their proper form when they function properly in all their parts, and so as a whole. Thus, when Aristotle applies the medical paradigm to ethics, he too asks about the form of man, and seeks to discern his proper function, knowledge of which is required in order to cure or to maintain in good health. Just as a doctor who does not know what health consists of cannot help a patient, so also is a statesman of no use, if he does not know the proper function of man. In mentioning' man's function', whether in Aristotle or any of the subsequent ethicists who base themselves upon him, we hit upon something of a raw nerve. For this just happens to be one of the most defended (at least in former times) and most impugned notions in moral philosophy. Aristotle, in line with the medical tradition, and after the example of Plato, introduces it as a matter of course in trying to explain the nature of happiness as man's chief good-that at which all things (including man) aim. Happiness turns out to be an activity, man's best activity, and so it requires a specification of man's proper function. This, Aristotle believes, he can do. It is .somewhat amazing how he then goes about the definition of man's function (€pyov) as if it were obvious to everyone, while this notion is so thoroughly enigmatic to scores of moralists after him. The famous passage on man's function occurs at 1098al9, and, in its course, Aristotle employs two basic analogies in order to argue: (a) the analogy from the crafts (flute-player, carpenter, tanner) and (b) the analogy from parts of the body (eye, hand, foot). Accepting these analogies as valid almost as soon as they are proposed, he then shows that man's proper function is obviously distinct from (even if inclusive of) vegetables and beasts. At first, it seems that Aristotle wants to say that man's proper function is " an active life of the element that has a rational principle" (1098a7-8). This would be a rational life in the world through everyday activity. At the end of the passage, however, Aristotle intimates a difficulty, for MEDICAL PARADIGM IN ARISTOTELIAN ETHICS 411 there he suggests that since there may be one virtue (apen1) of the soul above all the rest-and so one ' part ' of the soul somehow sundered from the rest, the human good, or happiness, may well lie in the activity of that part alone. As is well known, he in fact opts for this second alternative in the tenth book of the Nioomachean Ethics (EN), where he equates perfect human happiness with the activity or function of contemplation. This seeming dichotomy has been no source of joy to Aristotelian scholars, and it highlights the debate over whether it is valid to extend the medical paradigm into the ethical realm. Aristotle's discussion of man's function, in relation to those of plants and beasts, as well as his delineation of types of ' lives ' (wealth, honor, etc.), may be taken in more than one way. It can be read either as a purely descriptive account, or as a normative one which involvces hierarchical implications. 20 Now, it is not difficult to grant the former point of view, that man occupies a specific rung or link in the great chain of being, and one would have to be a pretty thoroughgoing existentialist of the Sartrean breed to question the fundamental difierence between a man and a cactus-and all this implies about behavior. One can do even better and argue that ' man ' has a sort of ' essence ' in that he is capable of certain ' human ' modes of functioning (viz., acting) which are proper to him, and which enable discussions about 'human behavior' even to get started. 21 Unfortunately, this only approaches the problem, and "° Cf. J. C. Davies, " Aristotle's Conception of 'Function' and Its Relation Davies attempts to show how to His Empiricism," Emerita 37/1 (1969), Aristotle sought to unite a naturalistic with a functional (teleological) account of things, and notes how this often caused a strain in the Stagirite's philosophy. 21 See S. Clark, "The Use of 'Man's Function' in Aristotle," Ethics (July Clark is one of the few predominantly favorable expositors of Aristotle in regard to this subject. One finds oneself agreeing with Clark, but also lamenting his failure to be more specific in regard to the crucial notion of ' rationality '. I am not aware of any follow-up articles by him making good this deficiency. Though not obvious in the title, Clark's attempt to isolate the properly ' human ' role of man receives fortification in Mary Midgley's extremely stimulating article, "The Concept of Beastliness: Philosophy, Ethics and Animal Behavior," Philosophy 48 (April 73), 111-35. 412 MICHAEL J. SEIDLER Aristotle himself moves the discussion beyond fact to norm. He argues that man has a peculiar function M man, over and above his function as this man (e.g., tanner) , and that he therefore ought to perform this one function better than all of the others, since his happiness lies in it. This argument is extremely difficult to accept, precisely because it is so difficult to decipher what Aristotle could mean. 22 If he means to refer to his first definition of happiness, then the definition of man's function will be so broad as to be practically useless-despite his later attempts to render it more specific. The " rational life " will be rendered more definite through the mean doctrine and the moral virtues, but these face similar problems. If, on the other hand, the reference is to the second definition of happiness, then that will make the argument simply unacceptable, not only because it seems impossible to specify a single one of man's activities and to designate it as more properly human than all the rest, but also because there would be widespread disagreement about such an activity as the flnal goal of all men qua men. The common wisdom which Aristotle so respected in ters of morality would hardly agree that Achilles should have gone home to contemplate in Phthia for the rest of his life, instead of dying before the walls of Troy in pursuit of the noble (To KaA6v). Chances are that Aristotle would not have agreed either. One way of putting the difficulty faced here by Aristotle is to say that he is confronted with a choice of opting for man's 22 B. Suits, "Aristotle on the Function of Man: Fallacies, Heresies, and Other Entertainments," Canadian Journal of Philosophy 4/1 (Sept. 74), makes as good an attempt as any to decipher Aristotle's meaning. Suits offers ten possible interpretations of Aristotle's phrase ' man's function ' and finds none of them acceptable. He then goes on to argue for a plurality of human functions-all of them proper and essential-based on a comparison of man to a " chamber pot." (38) Another discussion of human behavioral propriety is P. Alexander's "Normality," Philosophy 48 (April 73), 137-51. Alexander points out that the notion of psychic health is much more problematic than physical health and relates both to the statistical notion of ' normality ', which eventually becomes normative in a certain social group. MEDICAL PARADIGM IN ARISTOTELIAN ETHICS 413 end in (a) an inclusive or (b) a dominant or supreme sense.23 The former would refer to a life of many properly ' human ' activities, integrated or harmonized in some fashion into a whole life; while the latter would specify one activity of man to locate his perfection and happiness in that. The latter alternativewhich appears to be Aristotle's final choice-reduces all (moral) activity to concerns about means, while the former would allow that man may himself be a setter of ends, as well as a discoverer of means, all in a complete and whole life, of course. Though such an interpretation of Aristotle, which the Stagirite himself could have chosen, falls on more sympathetic ears, it still faces some difficulties, as we have seen, due to its dependence on the medical paradigm. But more of this later. It is obvious, then, that Aristotle's unassuming attempt to extend the notion of ' health ' into the ethical realm via the concept of proper functioning as norm has run into difficulties that are not easily resolvable. If man had a single proper function as man, it would be simple to judge whether he was morally healthy or not. As it is, the notion of human functioning has split into a thousand different activities, and so the question becomes: What standard of health is to be applied in gauging the propriety or impropriety of each of them? When he faces this question, Aristotle resorts to his doctrine of the mean, also a medical idea, as we have .seen. To an extent, it allows him to hold off the critics for a while. III. The Doctrine of the Mean. In order to explicate the notion of happiness as the final good, Aristotle has called upon the concept of proper function, which is related to form. It now remains to be determined what proper (versus improper) functioning is, for which purpose Aristotle introduces the notion of virtue (aper'Tj) . At this point, the notion has no moral overtones as yet, and it simply means 'excel••This distinction is made by W. F. R. Hardie, "The Final Good in Aristotle's Ethics," in Arisfotle: A Collection of Critical Essays, ed. by J. M. E. Moravcsik, (New York: Doubleday, Anchor Books, 1967), 297-322. 414 MICHAEL J. SEIDLER lence '. The next task, therefore, is to determine the precise nature and types of virtue. Just as a physician must penetrate further into the notion of healthy (viz. 'virtuous') activitywhich he seeks to foster in the patient, so the moral philosopher (the politician) must press on to ask about the nature of spiritual (ethical) health, or moral virtue. In pursuing this kind of investigation throughout the rest of EN (especially II-V), Aristotle is not at all .so limited in his outlook on virtue (and so, function) as the previous discussion seemed to indicate. At any rate, the transition to a consideration of virtue and the related doctrine of the mean is perfectly smooth: " Since happiness is an activity of the soul in accordance with perfect virtue, we must consider the nature of virtue; for perhaps we shall thus see better the nature of happiness" (1102a5-8). Aristotle begins the discussion of virtue by dividing the soul into two parts: the rational and the irrational (1102a26 ff.), a division which foreshadows the later separation of intellectual (see VI) and moral virtues. It is the moral virtues that concern Aristotle, and to which the mean doctrine chiefly applies, although the intellectual virtues are very much involved in the moral life as well (at least .some of them). The reason for this initial delineation of the soul is justified in terms of medicine: just as the man who would heal eyes or body must know about these, so also the politician, whose aim is similar, must know about the human soul. It is interesting to see how Aristotle prepares us for the introduction of the mean doctrines-almost as if he knew he would be misunderstood. Apparently he was, even in modern times, as anyone can see by looking to the cautions and warnings of modern expositors who never fail to put us on guard. He begins by noting that states of character arise out of like activities, wherefore we must look to these. They, in turn, must be according to the" right rule" which is reserved for later. Lest we suspect that he is introducing an absolutist legalism, Aristotle warns that "the accounts we demand must be in accordance with the subject matter; matters MEDICAL PARADIGM IN ARISTOTELIAN ETHICS 415 concerned with conduct and questions of what is good for us have no fixity, any more than matters of health" (1104a8-5). In each case, the agents themselves (notably, the ethical agent must effect his own cure) must decide on what is appropriate (rov Kaipov) to the occasion, as in the arts of navigation and medicine. But we are entitled, at least, to state generally that excess and defect both damage the object (or subject) , whether it be a boat, a body, or a soul (character). And so, we enter into the discussion of moral virtue (spiritual health) through the doors of the nautical and medical analogies. A closer examination of Aristotle's definition of virtue in terms of the mean reveals its close dependence upon the paradigm of the medical art: Virtue, then, is a state of character concerned with choice, lying in a mean, i. e. the mean relative to us, this being determined by a rational principle, and by that principle by which the man of practical wisdom would determine it. Now it is a mean between two vices, that which depends upon excess and that which depends upon defect; and again it is a mean because the vices respectively fall short of or exceed what is right in both passions and actions, while virtue both finds and chooses that which is intermediate. Hence in respect of its substance and the definition which states its essence virtue is a mean, with regard to what is best and right an extreme. 24 There are a number of crucial things to be noted in this passage. All of them have been seen by commentators and expositors of Aristotle, not always together, unfortunately. First, the mean is, in a sense, an extreme: Aristotle is not advocating an aurea mediocritas or a doctrine of in medio tutissimus ibis. Second, virtue is not a simple mixture of other components, or a number defining the exact quantity of some mixture; virtue itself is not a is at the mean (f.v µ,f:cr6rTJn). It is a state of character which involves a certain measured relationship of actions and / or emotions, which may either exceed or fall short of what the situation demands. 25 Furthermore, besides involving EN 1106b36-1107a8. See W. F. R. Hardie, "Aristotle's Doctrine That Virtue Is a Mean," Proc. of the Amtotelian Society 65 (1964-65), 183-fl04. Hardie emphasizes the applica24 25 416 MICHAEL J, SEIDLER the passions and actions, the mean applies to choice as well. The confinement of the mean to one or more of these (but not all) has only resulted in an unjustified limitation of the mean doctrine, and hence, to claims about its general inadequacy. 26 Third, the mean is determined "relatively to us." We are not speaking of an absolute mathematical middle, nor of a strict proportion, but, as Aristotle has already cautioned us, the mean may be different in each case. There is an absolute mean, to be sure, which is different from the relative mean, just as there is an ideal state of health, and a state of being healthy which we are presently able to (and should) attain. Hence, if a doctoror an ethician-ignores the facts of the case-the situation relatively to us, damage to one's physical or moral health will result. 27 And fourth, the relative mean is determined by a rational principle (A.6ycp), as the man of practical wisdom (o cf>p6viµ,oi;) would determine it. This is an attempt to offer guidance in a matter where we are still-admittedly-involved in generalities. This reference to the man of practical right reason indicates furtion of the mean doctrine to both internal passions and external actions. He is negative towards the attempt-which we will make later-to link the ethical mean with Aristotle's psychology and physiology. ••Cf. J. 0. Urmson, "Aristotle's Doctrine of the Mean," American Philosophical Quarterly 10 (July 78), 228-80. Urmson adds choice to action and emotion as an arena in which the mean may be attained. In doing so, he is able to show how Aristotle's discussion of continence (EN VII) is linked to that of temperance by way of the mean doctrine. His chart on p. 226 is illuminating and worth consulting. He also argues that, although there sometimes seem to be problems in applying the mean doctrine, this is due, usually, to a misreading of the situation, rather than to the general inadequacy of the doctrine itself. Cf. 227-80. 27 We have already noted this distinction in regard to medicine (see note 10); here, Aristotle acknowledges it in his doctrine. Cf. EN 1106a24 ff., where he uses an example from diet or nutrition to show that the mean must be taken relatively to us. 'Vhat is the right amount for Milo, the wrestler (who reputedly ate an ox in a day), is not necessarily the right amount for another man. On the distinction between the good in itself (absolutely or without qualification) and the good relatively to each man, see Metaphysics 1029b2-18 and EN 1129b4-6. In both places, Aristotle emphasizes that men should attempt to have the good relative to them approximate the absolute good; in other words, he is exhorting men to make moral progress. MEDICAL PARADIGM IN ARISTOTELIAN ETHICS 417 ther the flexibility that Aristotle deems necessary in reasoning about such matters. Little more need be .said about the role of the medical paradigm in this elaboration of excellence of character, or virtue. But one specific point is too closely related to medicine to be bypassed in silence. We recall the phrase in OAM: "to aim at some measure" (µfrpov nvos ..Aa. A6yos T£S Kat Svvaµis EKEtPov) (424a27-29) .85 The reason why a sense power in a physical, spatial sense organ is able to sense qualities of external objects is that it occupies a sort of mean position. If the stimulus is either too extreme in either direction, or too' neutral ', 86 then we cannot sense it with our •• The interpretation of this passage is often seen as problematic, especially as concerns the precise relation of sense and sense organ. See Ross's version here at which is the interpretation I am following. ••Aristotle is not quite right in his observation about our supposed inability to sense something at the 'neutral ' point. This is true, perhaps, in regard to temperature, but it does not hold for all cases of touching. For instance, we can use the tip of one finger to feel the tip of another, at least as regards their texture. MEDICAL PARADIGM IN ARISTOTELIAN ETHICS given sense apparatus. Our sense power, which is in a mean state, cannot-ironically-sense a mean state in an external object. This may lend support to the position which holds Aristotle to be avoiding a strict mathematical determination of the mean (viz., a numerical midpoint), if this conclusion may be applied to the ethical realm. At any rate, this theory of perception seems to be linked diirectly with the ethics by way of an oft-quoted passage, which is now quoted once more: To perceive then is like bare asserting or knowing; but when the object is pleasant or painful, the soul makes a quasi-affirmation or negation, and pursues or avoids the object. To feel pleasure or pain is to act with the sensitive mean towards what is good or bad as such. Both avoidance and appetite when actual are identical with this: the faculty of appetite and avoidance are not different, either from one another or from the faculty of sense perception; but their being is different. To the thinking soul images serve as if they were contents of perception (and when it asserts or denies them to be good or bad it avoids or pursues them). That is why the soul never thinks without an image.87 In its linkage of perception and the sensitive mean with the notions of pleasure and pain-which are respectively pursued and avoided as goods or evils as such, as well as in its junction of perception and thinking, this passage serves as a direct transition to the discussion of similar notions in the ethical realm. 88 87 Cf. De anima 43la8-16. For the Greek text and accompanying translation, see On the Soul, Parva Naturalia, On Breath, trans. by W. S. Hett (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard Univ. Press, 1957, Loeb Classical Library No. 17), pp. 174-77. 88 On 'perception' as a link between the De anima and EN, see W. W. Fortenbaugh, "Aristotle's Conception of Moral Virtue and Its Perceptive Role" Trana. and Proc. of American Philol. Assoc. 95 (1964), 77-87; and E. H. Olmstead, "The 'Moral Sense' Aspect of Aristotle's Ethical Theory," American Journal of Philology 69 (1948), 42-61. Another important article on this topic, early but often referred to, is J. L. Stocks, "Logos and Mesotes in the De Anima of Aristotle," Journal of Philology 33 (1914), 182-94. The notion of a moral sense or perception brings to mind the modem intuitionist ethics of Moore and Ross, both of whom were influenced by Aristotle in this regard. This topic is discussed by B. Baumrin, "Aristotle's Ethical Intuitionism," New Scholasticism 42 (Winter 68), 1-17. His proposal is opposed by J. T. King, "Aristotle's Ethical Nor:-Intuitionism," New Scholasticism 43 (Winter 69), 181-42, MICHAEL J. SEIDLER In any case, the ethical mean-the proper choice, action, or emotion that is demanded by a situation-must be (can only be) determined through perception. Aristotle is emphatic on this point, and he frequently repeats that " the decision rests with perception" (€v rfi r, Kpt f.µ1mpla<; oµµa eye (to) ... see aright." (Sia yap To opwaw opBw<>) (1143bl3-14). It is significant that Oedipus, who ' stumbled ' in life, who ' missed the mark ', put out his eyes because they did not ' see '. 43 I mentioned earlier that the link of perception with pursuit and avoidance (of pleasures and pains respectively) also serves as a transition from the psychological area into ethics proper. This notion is obviously a medical one as well, in that patients' pleasurable or painful reactions to treatment gauge the doctor's success or failure. Given the needed addition of reasoning to simple perception (which occurs through linking images to thought) , Aristotle may simply proceed to the ethical sphere, where pleasure and pain play a similar criteria! role. " For moral excellence is concerned with pleasures and pains. . . ." (7rep£ ?]Sova<; yap Kat AV'TT'U') EO"TtV 'lj apmJ) (1104b9) . Just as pleasure (or absence of pain) is an indicator of physical health, so in moral behavior or human excellence, pleasure is an indicator of propriety. Of course, things are a bit more complicated here, since Aristotle distinguishes between the real and the apparent good, as it were (1113a15 £.) , which is another way of saying •• OAM, IX, 22 f., p. 26 f. ••I owe this comparison to Olmstead (note 38 above), 57. 424 MICHAEL J. SEIDLER that pleasure is not per se an indicator of moral excellence, since men can-and do-feel pleasure in doing the wrong things (and vice versa, in regard to pain) . The norm has to be more precisely determined. Through our analysis of perception in relation to the mean, and through our final reference to experience and its 'eye', we are brought naturally now to Aristotle's discussion of the man of practical wisdom (o cppoviµ,oi;) who sees things for what they are and chooses and acts according to the right rule. In the moral exemplar who-we should recall-was mentioned in the original definition of virtue, Aristotle seeks to find final concretion for his moral theory. It is in the good man that the medical paradigm comes to its final fruition and also exhibits its ultimate limitations. V. Right Reason and the Man of Practical Wisdom. One experiences some disappointment as one advances through the EN, since the descent to particularity, especially a.s concerns moral virtue, is never completed. We are told that we should aim at the mean, and have seen that this requires perception of the particular circumstances. While accepting this, we are still led to ask about the concrete criterion to which we can refer when estimating and judging our actions and responses. The mean is determined, says Aristotle, according to the " right rule" (opOoi; .Myoi;), and we want to know further what this rule consists of. Aristotle raises this sort of question quite specifically at the start of EN VI. The lengthy passage which follows is crucial to his point of view: In all states of character we have mentioned, as in all other matters, there is a mark to which the man who has the rule looks, and heightens or relaxes his activity accordingly, and there is a standard which determines the mean states which we say are intermediate between excess and defect, being in accordance with the right rule. But such a statement, though true, is by no means clear: for not only here but in all other pursuits which are objects of knowledge it is indeed true to say that we must not exert ourselves nor relax our efforts too much or too little, but to an intermediate extent and as the right rule dictates; but if a man had only this knowledge he would be none the wiser-e. g. we should not know what sort of MEDICAL PARADIGM IN ARISTOTELIAN ETHICS 425 medicines to apply to our body if some one were to say ' all those which the medical art prescribes, and which agree with the practice of one who possesses the art.' Hence it is necessary with regard to the states of the soul also not only that this true statement should be made, but also that it should be determined what is the right rule and what is the standard that fixes it. 44 Aristotle here admits that the mean doctrine and the notion of " right rule "-which has been employed throughout the ethics (note also the constant ' aim ' metaphors 45 ) -need :further specification; and he uses a medical example to make this point. The Stoics were in a similar hot .seat later on, since they too employed the notion of " right reason " (op8'0r; Myor;) to describe moral rectitude, and were pressed to specify and elaborate its content. 46 It is interesting that Aristotle and the Stoics finally resorted to the same expedient-the moral exemplar as the concrete norm. Aristotle first draws the discussion of right rule or reason into that of practical wisdom (cf>p6v'Y}vrr1K7J aper7J 7rpos r7Jv Kvpla;v). 432 MICHAEL J. SEIDLER Thrasymachus." 65 But I wonder if Aristotle really fares any worse in such an encounter than anyone else, or whether anyone else fares any better-if, in fact, there is .something to be feared by ethicists here. I think that Aristotle has an answer-as does Kant-for the likes of Callicles, Thrasymachus-and Kai Nielsen, 66 for that matter-although I can only indicate here the general direction in which it can be developed. To the man who asks: " Why .should I be moral? " Aristotle would reply: " for the sake of the noble" (Tov KaA.ov evEKa) (ll20a23) .67 Moral actions are related to the class of the " seemly" (emEtKEta) (ll 75b24 f.) and need no justification other than their own value-there is no need to appeal to a self-interest argument based on utilitarian assumptions. What is " seemly " may differ according to the circumstances, as we have seen above, but there is nevertheless room for an objective morality founded on (human) reason in the face of a reasonable world (a world of objective relationships which must be honored) .68 This notion needs further refinement, to be sure, and it will probably be dismissed outright by some as " metaphysical muck." 69 However, I think that it is essentially compatible with a basically Kantian perspective in reply to the same problem (a view which seems to receive more respectability nowadays), in terms of which reason plays a kind of' constitutive' role in morality, instead of being consigned to a merely instrumental role (as in Hume) .70 As reasonable and free beings in the world, we are within the moral order whether we choose or not. Our choice lies only in regard Cf. Adkins, 337 and 347. See Kai Nielsen, " Why Should I Be Moral?" Methodos 15/59-60 (1963), 275306. There is plenty of other literature on this topic, and our discussion can only point the way, leaving off at, perhaps, a most interesting juncture. Nielsen's essay is famous-and provocative--enough to serve as an example of the type of question it raises, and on what grounds it is usually raised. 67 See also EN 1115b13-14; 1099a15 ff; and esp. 1169a15-1169b2. 68 Cf. Owens (note 49 above), esp. Man and World, 184-85. 69 Nielsen, 280. 70 See Vincent C. Punzo, "Autonomous Morality and Reason: A Meta-Ethical Perspective", The New Scholastici-sm, LI/4 (Autumn 1977), 470-93. 66 66 MEDICAL PARADIGM IN ARISTOTELIAN ETHICS 433 to conformity or non-conformity, in deciding whether to honor ourselves (and others like us) for what we are. The question about being moral can arise only in a Hobbesian wasteland (which happens to he as blatantly metaphysical as any other ' world ') , or a Thrasymachean one. Faced with it, Aristotle would probably react as would a doctor if his patient asked him: "Why should I be healthy?" For, despite the problems we noted above, there is a fundamental legitimacy in the medical analogy at this point. MICHAEL J. SEIDLER Saint Louis University Saint Louis, Missouri THE ONTOLOGICAL BASIS 0}' HUMAN RIGHTS T HE FOCUS OF this essay is not the topic of human rights itself but instead what is preliminary to it: whether there is a real, i. e., ontological, basis in man for the claim that he is the subject of inalienable rights; whether rights are due him in virtue of his very nature rather than because society or the state chooses to confer them upon him? Looked at from another angle, the focus can be formulated thus: whether man ultimately exists totally for society or exists in some significant sense for himself? What prompts the formulation of this problematic is the contemporary concern for what is called " the quality of life." This concern has become the occasion for the most recent and, perhaps, serious challenge yet to the doctrine of natural right. For example, the wealthy nations fear that the present growth of world population, especially in the poor nations, threatens the future of the human species,1 while progress in the field of genetics enlivens the hope of eradicating hereditary defects through " genetic engineering " and, hence, of halting the " pollution of the gene pool." 2 These two visions lead, in the minds of some,3 to the inescapable conclusion that the doctrine of inviolable, i.e., natural, rights is incompatible with the good of society as a whole and is, therefore, to be repudiated as erroneous 1 Sir Julian Huxley, "The Impending Crisis," The Population Crisis.. Edited by Larry K. Y. Ng. Bloomington & London: Indiana University Press, 1970; p. 27. For response to this view of the world problem, see my article, " The Social Encyclicals and the ' Population Problem '," Social Justiae Review, Oct., 1972. 2 For a perceptive discussion of the moral problems involved in genetic engineering, cf. Paul Ramsey, Fabricated Man; The Ethics of Genetic Control. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1970. 3 " A New Ethic For Medicine and Society," California Medicine, Vol. 118 # 3, September, 1970; pp. 67-68. 484 ONTOLOGICAL BASIS OF HUMAN RIGHTS 435 or at least made subservient to the exigencies of social survival. The latter seems to be the position taken by B. F. Skinner: "Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness are basic rights. But they are the rights of the individual and were listed as such at a time when the literatures of freedom and dignity were concerned with the aggrandizement of the individual. They have only a minor bearing on the survival of a culture." 4 This position derives its force from an appeal to the principle, ' the good of society (in some sense of the word ' good ') has precedence over the good of the individual (in some sense of the word ' good ') ,' which appeal seems to carry with it the implicit rider that all human rights are social rather than natural in origin. If this position is accepted, then the inference is automatic that, since even the right to life is conferred by .society, it too may be rescinded in order to preserve the greater good of the community. What is at stake here is not simply the question of society's authority to execute convicted murderers and the like but the innocent as well; e.g., those who are deformed, retarded, carriers of hereditary diseases, or whose existence is adjudged " meaningless " or " devoid of value." One cannot help asking, for example, whether Professor Garrett Hardin, in his proposal that the freedom to procreate he rescinded, 5 grasps the full import of his plea that we deny the validity of the United Nations' Declaration of Rights. Specifically, one wonders why, if, in the name of social .survival, we can properly deny the freedom to procreate, can we not also deny, in the name of social survival, the freedom to exist. To be sure, the defensibility of the doctrine of natural right presupposes the doctrine's compatibility with the good of the social body. But the requirements of compatibility are, in this case, reciprocal, for the question of what constitutes the good of .society is inextricably bound up with the fundamental ques• B. F. Skinner., Beyond Freedom and Dignity. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 197Q; p. 180. 5 Garrett Hardin, " The Tragedy of the Commons," Science, December 18, 1968, pp. IQ43-IQ48. 436 RAYMOND DENNEHY tion of rights, i. e., with the question of the liberties to which the individual member of society is entitled. If, for example, it is accepted that rights are social in origin, there is no escaping the conclusion that the human being exists ultimately for society. This is the basis of totalitarianism, as the name itself implies. If, on the other hand, it is accepted that rights, such as the right to life, are natural in origin, i. e., that they follow from what a human being is by nature, then the conclusion must be drawn that he exists, in some significant sense, for his own sake, as well as for society. This is the foundation for democratic society. The first paragraph of the Deelaration of Independenoe asserts that all men possess, as " God-given " and " inalienable," rights, such as "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness," and that it is for the protection of these rights that governments are formed and dissolved; Article One of the United Nations' Declaration of Human Rights reaffirms this claim by stating that rights are conferred by human nature, not by the State. 6 And at Nuremberg the Allies tried and convicted the Nazis of " crimes against mankind " for their wholesale extermination of Jews and non-Aryans, despite the fact that the laws of Germany permitted and even demanded genocide.7 Thus, whether they realize it or not, those who see the abrogation of human rights as a condition for the preservation of the quality of life challenge the foundations of democratic theory. Admittedly, the dependence of democratic theory on the doctrine of natural right does not in itself justify this doctrine, any more than the inference of totalitarian theory from the doctrine of the .social origin of rights justifies it by a reductio ad absurdum. All that follows is that democratic theory presupposes the doctrine of natural right. The question, therefore, is whether there is any basis in reality for the claim that man does not exist totally fo:r society, whether alongside his very con•A copy of the United Nations' Declaration of Human Rights appears as an app<)ndix to Maurice Cranston's book, What Are Human Rights.? New York: Taplinger Publishing Co., Inc., 1973. 7 R. W. Cooper, The Nuremberg Trials. Middlesex & New York: Penguin Books, 1947; p. 39. ONTOLOGICAL BASIS OF HUMAN RIGHTS 487 siderable social obligations he has natural title to autonomy over certain areas of his life, areas over which society has no legitimate control? In other words, what is it about a human being which supposedly entitles him to natural, i. e., inalienable, rights? * * * * This essay purports to furnish answers to the above questions. The answers are set forth in three major parts. The first and most important part consists in the attempt to show that man's capacities for knowing and choosing reveal him to. be by nature a self-perfecting, autonomous being, which is to say, a whole. Accordingly, any treatment of him as a mere part of society is a violation of the natural order and an outrage against reason. Here a word must be said about the attention given in this essay to man's cognitive operations, lest the reader begin to wonder, as he proceeds through its first part, what epistemology has to do with the ontological basis of rights. That such a question should arise at all must be attributed to modern philosophy's severance of epistemology from metaphysics, of knowing from being. The unhappy results of this severance are reflected in the question now regarded as fundamental to epistemology, "How does the mind get its ideas?" Not only does this formulation reduce knowing to a mere perception and consideration of ideas or representations, thereby cutting the intellect off from extramental reality, it cannot fail to regard the intellect as an instrument rather than as a power of man's essence, so that he loses all claim to being essentially different from sub-rational beings. Denied a unique interiority, he is, therefore, externalized and regarded as no more than another part, a sophisticated part, to be sure, of the natural environment. As such, man must submit to manipulation along with the rest of the environment. 73 In contrast, it is argued below: that knowing is a becoming, a way of being, and, hence, that the fundamental epistemological question is' How does man become a knower?' Insofar as we learn what a being is through a knowledge of what it does, the •• Skinner, op. cit., pp. 24-25, 58-59, and esp. p. 202. 438 RAYMOND DENNEHY justification for the " epistemological " approach is that it enables us to answer the question, ' What is it about a human being which supposedly entitles him to natural, i.e., inalienable, rights?' Yet, just because of the exigencies of this topic, no attempt is made to provide anything more than a general discussion of human knowing. The second part of this essay addresses itself to the so-called " naturalistic fallacy" by demonstrating the bridge by which reason proceeds from the consideration of what things are to the consideration of how they ought to be treated. For the objection is sure to be raised that, no matter what man naturally is, we cannot legitimately pass from " an is to an ought," from £acts to values. 8 The third part concentrates on the relationship that obtains between what man is and the right to life. For, although a discussion of the topic of rights itself is outside the scope of this essay, the completion of the latter undertaking demands that the relationship between ontology and rights be made explicit, particularly with regard to the distinction between justifiable and unjustifiable homicide, mercykilling and suicide. I In the writings of Thomas Aquinas, one finds two principles that pertain to the topic of this essay. The first has to do with immanence: ". . . the higher a nature, the more intimate to that nature is the activity that flows from it." 9 The second has to do with extensiveness: " ... the higher a power is, the more universal is the object to which it extends." 1 ° Far from being disparate or mutually exclusive, these two principles complement each other; indeed, a proportion exists between them: the more immanent a being is, the more extensive are its powers.11 As argued below, the acts of knowing and choosing testify to 8 David Hume, A Treatise on Human Nature, Bk. III, I, 1. •Thomas Aquinas, C. G. IV, 11. 10 Thomas Aquinas, S. Theol., I, Q. 71, a. 1. 11 Pierre Rousselot, The Intellectualism of St. Thomas. Tr. by James E. O'Mahony. New York: Sheed ai'id Ward, Inc., 1935; pp. 28-29. ONTOLOGICAL BASIS OF HUMAN RIGHTS 439 man's intrinsic superiority over brute animals and all material nature, for such acts originate only in a seli, an Iy in a unique center of conscious being. That is why he is properly said to be a whole. 12 He is present in all his parts, gathering them up and unifying in a unique selfhood his entire being; he thereby possesses his being in and through his self. Yet the intimacy and personalness of his activities stretch outwards to the whole universe. Through the act of knowing, he unifies in his unique self a fragmented external world; through the exercise of his will, he reshapes the material world, as well as his own being, in the image and likeness of the highest ideals. Now, although immanence and extensiveness cannot be separated, the one from the other, it is immanence that is primary; extensiveness follows from it. All man's activities and operations originate in his unique selfhood and terminate there. Hence, it is correct to say that man is a being who exists not only in himself but for himself.13 A. KNOWING That knowing is a self-perfecting operation-i. e., an operation that originates and terminates in the knower and for the fulfilment of the knower-can be verified by the following observations. In order to know anything, I must enter into a subject-object relationship; for when I know, I know something. Knowing, then, has two components: an object that is known and a subject who knows. But it is a relationship in which the knowing subject (a) becomes the object, the thing known; and in which the subject (b) dominates and possesses the object. If either of these conditions were lacking, knowledge would be impossible. (a) The claim that knowing is a becoming, a way of being, rather than a mere apprehension of ideas or representations, fol12 Jacques Maritain, The Person and the Common Good. Tr. by John J. Fitzgerald. Notre Dame, Indiana: University of Notre Dame Press, 1966 (paperback); p. 49, n. 28. 18 Aquinas, S. Theol., I, Q. 65, a. 2. 440 RAYMOND DENNEHY lows from the veridical character of knowledge. Although we do not attain a complete and perfect knowledge of anything, and although we often entertain as true judgments which are in fact false, we nevertheless can, and do, attain a true and objective knowledge of things in the universe. For example, we know the real essence of man, of brute animals, and of plants, i.e., we know what they are, for we grasp the essential clifferences among them. The latter point has its confirmation on the practical level in the fundamentally different ways in which we treat them. But a true and objective knowledge of things would be out of the question if any third thing intruded itself between the knower and the thing known. For then the intellect would apprehend what is at best a representation of the thing which, instead of providing a true and objective knowledge of it, would provide only a knowledge of the representation itself. Indeed, as Thomas Aquinas observes, 14 if knowledge consisted of knowing mere representations of things, then contradictories would be simultaneously true, since in each case one's knowledge would conform to its object, namely, the mere representation. Thus, the concept that the intellect forms of the thing's essence cannot stand between the knower and the known as some third thing which serves as a representation of the known, as a picture of one's wife, say, is an image-sign of her. Because the objectivity of knowledge is a self-proclaiming fact, our knowledge of things can be accounted for only by the inference that nothing, not even an accurate picture or representation of the known, .stands between the latter and the intellect. This is the warrant for the claim that the intellect becomes the known in the act of knowing it. 15 But since the objectivity of knowledge demands that the subject know the object as other, the identification between knower and known must be formal rather than material or absolute. This demand inspired Aristotle's brilliant theory of abstraction: 16 the intellect seizes the intelligible structure, the Ibid., I, Q. 85, a. !'l. Aristotle, De Anima, Bk. III, Ch. 4. 16 Ibid., 4!'l9b HHS. 14 15 ONTOLOGICAL BASIS OF HUMAN RIGHTS 441 essence, of the concrete existent perceived by the senses. By deindividualizing and, therefore, universalizing it, the intellect proportions it to its own immaterial nature, thereby apprehending it under the aspect of its whatness or knowability. 11 Since, in knowing, the intellect actually becomes the thing's essence, it must be said that the intellect actually becomes the thing known, for it thereby possesses its interior form, possesses that by which the thing is what it is.18 Thus, while the thing as known and the thing as it exists in extramental reality are identical in essence, they differ in existence, the former having intentional or cognitional existence, the latter having physical existence. 19 Nevertheless, it is correct to say that the intellect becomes the thing it knows, but it does so by raising it to its own level, the level of spiritual existence. For what we know are not essences themselves but things, existents. The completion of the act of knowing is in the operation of judgment whereby the intellect restores the abstracted essence to the material image of sensation. And since this image is the product of the perceptions of the external senses, which faculties are in direct contact with the existent, judgmente. g., 'This creature approaching me is a man '-is the vehicle by and through which the subject knows the object in its actual existence. Indeed, a mutual interaction occurs between the apprehension of essence and judgment. For we cannot know what a thing is without simultaneously, though implicitly, knowing that it is, either as an actual or a possible being. As Thomas Aquinas says, 20 all concepts are reducible to the concept of being. 17 Maritain, Bergsonian Philosophy and Thomism. Tr. by Mabelle L. and J. Gordon Andison. New York: Philosophical Library, 1955; pp. 156-158. 18 Cf. Josef Pieper, Reality and the Good. Tr. by Stella Lange. Chicago: Henry Regncry Company, 1967; pp. 30-31. 19 Ibid. 20 Aquinas, De Veritate, I, l; Joseph Owens, An Interpretation of Existence. Milwaukee: The Bruce Publishing Company, 1968 (paperback), Ch. II; Maritain, Existence and the Existent. Tr. by Lewis Galantiere and Gerald P. Phelan. Garden City, N. Y.: Doubleday and Company, Inc., 1957 (paperback); pp. 85-37, n. 13. 442 RAYMOND DENNEHY Thus, not only does the intellect become the essence of the thing known, it also, and at the same time, duplicates, on the level of intentionality, the thing's existence; in a true sense, the knower becomes the thing known. It now remains to establish claim b) , that in the subjectobject relationship which characterizes the knowing operation, the subject possesses and dominates the object, the known. The first of the two principles attributed to Thomas Aquinas at the outset of this section is appropriately reiterated here: " ... the higher a nature, the more intimate to that nature is the activity that flow.s from it." It was said above that this principle pertains to immanence and that immanent activity, such as knowing, originates only in a self, in a unique center of conscious being. Such uniqueness is implied throughout the above discussion insofar as knowledge consists in the .subject knowing the other as other. But this is possible only by virtue of the intellect's capacity to proportion the thing known to itself, to raise it to its own level of existence, which it accomplishes by freeing the essence of the thing from its materiality. It is impossible to separate the uniqueness of the knowing subject from the capacity to possess and dominate the thing known. The intimacy of the tie.s that bind these two realities together emerges quite clearly from the following consideration. Without the knower's knowledge of himself as the subject who knows the object, there could be no knowledge. For to know the thing as object, i.e., as other, it is necessary that the knower simultaneously know himself as the subject who is knowing. Consider, for example, expressions such as 'I know that . . .' Again: I have an explicit consciousness of myself which gives birth to such observations as "Here I sit writing about my self-consciousness." But this is not the only kind of consciousness involved in knowing; for it is not a knowledge of myself as subject but as object. It is a reflexive knowledge by means of which the intellect turns back upon itself, producing a concept of itself. Hence, the self that I know in such observations as the above is myself as object. ONTOLOGICAL BASIS OF HUMAN RIGHTS 443 But to know anything, it is also necessary for me to have another kind of consciousness, what Maritain calls 21 the" concomitant consciousness." If knowing is more than the blind assimilation of data-as occurs when information is put into a computer-, I must, in knowing something, simultaneously know myself as the subject who knows. Indeed, even reflexive consciousness presupposes concomitant consciousness, for to reflect upon myself in the act of thinking or working is to enter into a subject-object relationship: to know myself reflexively, as an object, is to be conscious of myself as the knowing subject, even though the latter is, in this case, myself. Since concomitant consciousness is a knowledge of myself as subject, rather than object, it is not a conceptual knowledge; it is a knowledge of the self not as known but as knower. For, insofar as conceptual knowledge requires the abstraction of the intelligible form from the material image of the concrete existent, it presupposes the subject-object relationship. But, as demonstrated above, this relationship presupposes also that the subject knows himself as the knower of the object. Concomitant consciousness, then, is not explicit or reflexive consciousness but is implicit in explicit consciousness and embedded in all conceptual knowledge. * * * * The self-perfecting character of knowing follows from the fact that it is an immanent rather than a transitive activity. For the latter kind of activity perfects not the agent but the object on which the agent acts; e.g., surgical activity benefits the patient, not the surgeon. Unlike transitive activity, where the agent's activity is externalized, passing to some object outside the agent, knowing is internalized, perfecting the agent insofar as to know is to become the thing known. 22 Such would not be the case if the thing absorbed the knowing self. But, owing to the immanence of its act, the self retains possession ofitself: it knows itself as a unique center of conscious being, while at the same time existing as the thing known. 21 Maritain, "The Immortality of Man," Revi&w of Politics, Vol. 8, 1941, pp .. 415-416; cf. also Epictetus, Discourses, Bk. I, Ch. XX. 22 Aristotle, Metaphysics, Bk. IX, Ch. 8 1050a !'l4-1050b 1. 444 RAYMOND DENNEHY That knowing is, by virtue of its immanence, a higher form of possession of another than is transitive activity may be demonstrated by the following observation. Our dominion over the material world, although increasingly stupendous, is never complete. We successfully bend material being to our will only by manipulating and changing it, as when we extract nourishment from the ingestion of meat or get building materials by felling trees, crushing rock, and, in the case of plastics, by rearranging the molecular structure of natural materials. Yet the inner being of matter always resists even our most violent efforts to dominate and possess it completely. Our bodies can assimilate only certain elements of what we eat; wood rots and concrete cracks and crumbles. Therapeutic drugs have undesirable side-effects and we must confront problems of atmospheric pollution caused by fuels obtained by the conversion of natural resources. But, in the act of knowing, on the other hand, we dominate material beings completely without doing violence to them, insofar as we thereby possess them as other. 23 For, as noted above, the intellect possesses the thing known in the latter's essential being. All of which, it may be observed in passing, attests to the superiority of intellectualism over voluntarism. It is clearly better to possess a thing worthy of possession than merely to exert one's will over it, i.e., to have a merely external relation to it. 24 The possessive or dominative aspect of knowing brings us to a consideration of the second of the two principles cited at the outset of this section: " ... the higher a power, the greater the number of objects to which it extends." Extensiveness and immanence are related as effect to cause. It is just because of its immanence that a power is a knowing power, for in virtue of its perfect reflexivity-its consciousness of itself as a subject-, it knows other beings as other,. and accordingly has the capacity to enter into the subject-object relationship that characterizes the knowing operation. But, as shown above, knowing 23 2• Rousselot, pp. 25-26. Ibid., pp. 20-21. ONTOLOGICAL BASIS OF HUMAN RIGHTS 445 1s a becoming. Man, therefore, becomes other beings, albeit on the level of intentionality. Per impossibile, the desire in a sub-rational being to become another being would be tantamount to desiring its own destruction. The donkey, for example, could not become a lion without annihilating itself. 25 But this is not so with regard to rational beings. Since a thing is knowable insofar as it is, i.e., insofar as it has being (the formal object of the intellect is being), rational beings have the capacity to know all that is; and since to know is to become the other as other, they have the capacity to be all that is. By interiorizing external being, through knowing, an imperfect subject of a rational nature, although limited in its natural being, can become, on the level of intentional being, everything that exists and, in that manner, can transcend the limitations of its own nature while retaining possession of its unique selfhood. For, as argued above, the act and fulfillment of the intellect consist not in the apprehension of essences or the lmowledge of mere concepts but in the attainment of existence, i.e., the attainment of the act of existing of the thing known, by duplicating it through the act of judgment. The knower thereby dominates external reality in a most perfect way, since he becomes and thus possesses it as it is in its essential being-as other. It is true possession because it is the self, or which becomes it without being absorbed by it. Thus, to know is not to make or to receive anything but, rather, to exist in a way that is superior to the mere fact of existing as an independent substance. 26 B. CHOOSING Insofar as choice is consequent upon deliberation and deliberation is consequent upon knowledge, it is clear that choice is consequent upon reason. Hence, choice, i..e., practical reason, 25 Bernard J. F. Lonergan, Insight; A Study of Human Unders.tanding. New York: Philosophical Library, 1957; p. fl66; and Maritain, Scholasticism and Politics. Transl. ed. by Mortimer J. Adler. Garden City, N. Y.: Doubleday and Company, Inc., 1960 (paperback); p. 130. 26 Maritain, Degrees. of Knowledge, p. 118; Rousselot, pp. flO-fll, fl5-fl6. 446 RAYMOND DENNEHY is an extension of intellection, i. e., theoretical or speculative reason.21 Like the act of knowing, then, the act of choosing originates in an I, in a unique center of conscious being. 28 The immanence of the act of choice is revealed, also, in the fact that it is a self-perfecting act, whether exercised out of selfinterest or out of interest in the well-being of others. Even when one acts altruistically, one inevitably acts for one's own fulfilment, insofar as the decision to perform any act follows from a realization, however inexplicit and deeply submerged in other objectives, that the action will have a bearing on one's sense of self, self-respect, integrity, etc. Like all choices, an altruistic choice implies a desire for one's own fulfilment and happiness. Is it not true that the altruist finds his fulfilment in working for the good of others? Even the masochist, in his own twisted way, seeks happiness through his pain and degradation. It would be quite mistaken to suppose that the question of personal fulfilment is purely or primarily a matter of attitude and, as such, is the preserve of psychology. Indeed, for an immanent being-a being who is aware of himself as a unique self-it is impossible to act at all without acting for his own self-perfection just because his very being is to be a self. It is an ontological neaessity that all his actions originate m a unique center of conscious being and terminate there. * * * * The principles set down above with regard to knowing and choosing undergird the correlation between a being's dignity, or degree of ontological perfection, and its capacity for immanence. The more perfect a being, the more completely is it an intellectual substance; the more completely it is an intellectual substance, the more autonomous and self-perfecting it is; in other words, the more completely does it exist for its own sake. From plants to animals to human beings, material nature presents a spectrum of beings possessed of the capacity to move Pieper, op. cit., p. 49. Maritain, Existence and the Existent, Ch. and Neuf Ler;ons sur lea Notions Premieres de la Philosophie Morale. Paris: Pierre Tequi, 1951; pp. 81 & 165. 27 28 ONTOLOGICAL BASIS OF HUMAN RIGHTS 447 themselves by a vital interior principle. Only at the level of man, however, is this interior principle truly immanent and, therefore, truly intimate to the activity which flows from it. The activities of sub-rational beings-growth, assimilation, propagation-, although originating in a principle that is increasingly interiorized in proportion to the increase in sensory and neurological complexity, are the products of blind reflexive or, at best, instinctual powers, and for that reason are more characteristic of the species than of the individual member. ' Intimate ' in this context refers primarily not to what comes from within, where the word ' within 'is taken in a spatial sense, but rather to what is singular, or better yet, unique in the individual agent. Of the three categories of living being enumerated above, man alone acts from a genuinely unified center of unique being, the self. As a knower, he can judge the proportion between means and ends and thereby take responsibility for his actions. Just as, on the level of knowing, it is the I, the unique self, who knows, so, on the level of practical activity, it is the unique self who chooses specific means for specific ends. Yet not even man's actions flow entirely from a unique interiority, for, as a member of the human species, each individual man is to a large degree governed by inclinations and drives which are common to his species. In other words, an individual human being's conduct is governed largely by his essence. Not even his intellect and will are identical to his unique self, since they are characteristic of the human species.29 Man is not fully self-perfecting because he is not fully autonomous. Perfect autonomy belongs to God alone because, as the Absolutely Perfect Being, He is completely and perfectly an intellectual substance. Consequently, His activity is perfectly immanent and, accordingly, flows entirely from His unique selfhood.30 To appreciate this, it is necessary to recall that immateriality is the basis of knowledge: a thing is knowable to the extent 29 Maritain, "Spontaneite et Independence," Mediaeval Studies, Vol. 4, Aquinas, Contra Gentiles, IV, Ch. 11. 30 Aquinas, loc. cit., and S. Theol., I, Q. 18, a 3 448 RAYMOND DENNEHY that it is free from matter. Since matter contracts and limits, human knowledge depends on the previously discussed process of abstraction, whereby the intellect universalizes and, actualizes the intelligibility of the concrete particular. The freer a being is from matter, therefore, the more intelligible it is, and if that being is a substance, its capacity to know will be the greater. As the most perfect being, God cannot be limited; but since matter constricts and limits, He must be immaterial. Now to be a completely and perfectly immaterial substance is to be the complete and perfect intellectual substance, and since knowing is a self-perfecting act in which the knower, the self, becomes the known, God must be the absolutely personal being, the perfect Self. Accordingly, He operates by no principles which do not flow from His own uniqueness. The absolute perfection of God demands, moreover, that He not be dependent on anything outside Himself, which is to say that He knows all things by knowing Himself.81 It is, on the other hand, man's imperfection and finitude which account for his dependence on things external to himself for his knowledge. He is an imperfect intellectual substance. But he overcomes his fragmented, limited existence through knowing and choosing beings external to himself. As noted above, however, knowing is the more perfect form of possession of another thing, for knowing consists in becoming the other as other. Whereas in choosing the will achieves only an external possession of the thing, in knowing the intellect achieves possession of the thing's interior form, or essence.32 * * * * In summary: The above analysis of knowing and choosing demonstrates that man, in the words of Thomas Aquinas, " stands on the horizon between two worlds." 33 On the one hand, he shares the world of material beings; he is an imperfect intellectual substance insofar as his essence and self are not 31 Aquinas, S. Theol., I, Q. 14, a. 4. •• Ibid., Q. a. 5. 38 Aquinas, C G. II, 68. ONTOLOGICAL BASIS OF HUMAN RIGHTS 449 identical with each other. He is, therefore, largely dominated by the structures and inclinations of his human nature. He does not, consequently, possess a perfect life and being. To the extent of this limitation, he is a part of the human species, which means that, in a very important sense, he is subordinate to society, exists for the benefit of the whole. For to the extent that he is not a unique center of conscious being and autonomous activity, his nature is common to the species, i.e., he is the same as all men. Simply on the basis of this sameness, there is no warrant in the real order of things for ascribing to an individual human being spheres of life and endeavor which transcend the life of the social group and the environment. For of several things among which no significant difference may be found, the value of the many over the individual follows from the sheer fact of superior numbers. On the other hand, this same analysis reveals each human the world of intellectual substances; he being as one who is a being who, by virtue of his capacity to know, performs an act of perfect immanence, a self-perfecting act. For, in becoming, on the level of intentionality, the thing known, he becomes that thing as other, while retaining his unique selfhood; hence, he perfects himself. To the extent that he is an intellectual substance, he is a unique center of conscious being. Similarly, his capacity to choose establishes him as an autonomous being, a self-determining agent, who freely pursues goals for his fulfilment as a unique .self and takes personal responsibility for his choices. This immanence, this unique interiority, is the basis in the real, i. e., the ontological, order for ascribing to each human being spheres of life and endeavor which transcend the life of the social group. In contrast, sub-rational beings do not exist in any .significant sense for their own sakes and, on that account, they are expendable for the good of the species. This is not to suggest that they have no value in themselves. Insofar as they exist, they have ontological value, but whatever their value, it is subordinate to the good of the species. Thus, while there is something 450 RAYMOND DENNEHY intuitively immoral in wantonly crumpling a rose or killing an animal, it is the insight into the ontological difference between rational and sub-rational beings which underlies our readiness to prune a rose for the vigor of the rose bush and kill animals for food or to kill diseased animals to prevent them from infecting other members of their species or to preserve the balance of nature, etc., but which, at the same time, produces moral revulsion in us at the thought of killing human beings for eugenic purposes or using involuntary patients to further medical science. The Nuremberg Trials and the United Nations' condemnation of genocide testify to the reality of that moral revulsion. To commit murder, to interfere with a man's freedom of conscience, to obstruct his freedom to seek the truth, etc., all this is to violate the natural order and, consequently, to outrage reason. For such actions use a being who is an end in himself as a mere means to an end, as a mere object of scientific or social purpose. In other words, the claim that certain rights, such as the right to life, are natural follows from the conclusion that they are due to a human being because of what he is naturally, i. e., by essence, and not because of what society chooses to allow him. II It is time to face the objection that rights cannot be grounded in reality because it is impossible to derive an ought from an is. The realm of value, the objection maintains, 84 is quite apart from the realm of fact. The doctrine of the dichotomy between fact and value, which today enjoys widespread acceptance, particularly in AngloAmerican philosophical circles,85 represents the outlook of Nominalism. This is clearly the reason for D. J. O'Connor's rejection of Thomas Aquinas's view that morality is grounded in •< Hume, loc. cit. •• E. g., P. H. Nowell-Smith, Ethics. Marmondsworth, Middlesex: Penguin Books Ltd., 1954 (paperback), and Charles L. Stevenson, Ethics and Language. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1965, 451 ONTOLOGICAL BASIS OF HUMAN RIGHTS objective reality and is accessible as such to human intellect. 36 The influence of N ominalism also evinces itself in psychology, as is clear from the writings 37 of B. F. Skinner whose rejection of the reality of what he calls the " autonomous man " is rooted in a Positivism which prevents him from admitting anything in man that distinguishes him from the rest of material nature. The essences of things are not to be found under the scrutiny of a method which can apprehend only what is measurablesensible properties of things. Hence, because the dignity and freedom of man are grounded in his essence as a self-perfecting being, Skinner is led to shift the locus of human activity from within man himself to the natural and social environments. Like .sub-rational beings, then, man is to be treated as a mere part of the environment rather than as a whole or a self. If things did not have essences or if, at least, we could not know what they really were, then, in order to establish the position that rights are naturally due man, it would be necessary, as the nominalists correctly maintain, to show that the basis of any right is some property in him. But, just as it is erroneous to suppose that goodness is identifiable with any natural property-to follow G. E. Moore's line of criticism 38-, so is it erroneous to suppose that rights are so identifiable. However, this essay, as is clear from its first section, rejects the claims of Nominalism. As argued above, things do have essences and, depending on the degree of freedom they enjoy from the domination of matter, we know, in varying degrees, their essences, including the essence of man. From his perceptible activities, we know him to be by nature a rational animal, and, hence, a self-perfecting being. Now to appreciate the legitimacy of the transition from fact to value and a fortiori the legitimacy of the transition from the conclusion that man is a self-perfecting being to the conclusion that he is naturally entitled to 36 D. J. O'Connor, Aquinas and Natural Law. (paperback), pp. 16, !M, & 85. 31 Skinner, op. cit., pp. 58-59, 193-196. 88 G. E. Moore, Principia Ethica, Ch. II. London: Macmillan, 1967 452 RAYMOND DENNEHY rights, it is necessary to state explicitly what has been implicit throughout this essay: the dependence of ethics upon metaphysics, upon the intellect's capacity to go beyond the sensible properties of things to an apprehension of their intelligible structures. Consider, to begin with, the real, rather than merely logical, distinction between essence and existence. Regarded in itself, essence, or what a thing is, belongs to the realm of potency. In itself it does not exist but is only a possible existence. Existence, on the other hand, belongs to the realm of actuality, or to what really is; in fact, existence is the primary reality, for nothing is real except that it exists. That the distinction between essence and existence is real, rather than merely logical, is supported by the impossibility of inferring the one from the other. From our knowledge of what a thing is, we cannot infer that it exists, nor from the mere knowledge that a thing exists can we infer what it is.89 Now each existent is a composite of essence and existence (each finite existent, that is); its essence specifies its existence, determines it to be a this or a that, while its act of existing makes the essence real, i. e., actualizes its potency to be. But the fact that a thing exists does not mean that its existence signals the complete actualization of its essence. Nature is dynamic. Things stretch forth to the actualization of the possibilities contained in their essences, possibilities the actualization of which is demanded for each existent's fulfilment: the acorn stretches forth to become an oak tree, the larva to become a caterpillar and finally a butterfly, and the child to become a man. 40 Looked at from another angle, essence belongs to the realm of necessity, existence to the realm of contingency. Given a certain essence, a specific intelligible determination, that essence expresses unchanging necessities: the interior angles of a triangle are equal to the sum of two right angles and man is a rational animal. These will always and necessarily be true; each Etienne Gilson, Being and S<>me Phuosophe:rs. Toronto, 1952; pp. 168-172. in Ethics: A Modest Proposal For Its Diagnosis and Cure," Ethics, January, 1966; pp. 102-116. 89 '° Cf. Henry B. Veatch, "Non-Cognitivism ONTOLOGICAL BASIS OF HUMAN RIGHTS 453 is what it is. But whether there shall be triangles or human beings is not to be determined by the intelligible necessities of their respective essences. Indeed, the realm of existence is the realm of contingency, within which things are beset by the vicissitudes of material forces. To enter the realm of material existence is to enter the world of the unpredictable and the adventurous.41 Existents are engaged in a constant struggle to complete the striving of their essences. Lacking the proper soil and temperature, the acorn will decay and, even under optimum conditions, it may be snatched by a squirrel for winter food; the child born of stupid parents, into a backward community, with few educational opportunities and rudimentary public health facilities may be a genius or possess robust health, while the child born of intelligent parents, into a culturally sophisticated environment with advanced public health facilities may be stupid or die of pneumonia before reaching adulthood. Yet, despite the myriad contingencies of this existence, man, the knower, perceives what things are, eventually coming to an understanding of their ideal type of fulfilment. Consider, for example, the farmer whose experience with crops enables him to distinguish good crops from bad. This ability presupposes his understanding, however inexplicit and bound up with practical tasks it may be, of the essence of corn, barley, oats, etc. Similar: ly, from an understanding of man's essence, we grasp its finalities, and it is from this grasp that we infer what conduct befits him and what does not. For the striving, the stretching forth, of things towards the increasing actualization of their essences reveals to the intellect the intelligibility of nature. Perceiving the ideal type that is grounded in the actuality of things, reason concludes that it is good, i. e., desirable, that each existent attain the fulfilment of its essence. Perceiving that man is a rational and, hence, a self-perfecting being, reason concludes that it is good, i. e., desirable, that he actualize the potencies of his essence. His essence demands for its completion that he be free to exercise his self-perfecting activities, for to obstruct this "Aristotle, Physics, Bk. II, Chs. 4-6. 454 RAYMOND DENNEHY exercise would be to violate the integrity of his being-an outrage of reason. As noted above, it is immoral to wantonly destroy a rose bloom or an animal. This is a violation of their being. But their being is not self-perfecting; they do not exist for their own sake; hence, they may be used-killed or manipulated-for some higher good. Man presents a different case. Just because of what he is, he may not be used as a mere to any end. Thus, the objection that an ought cannot be derived from an is rests upon a philosophy which fails to understand that oughtness, far from inhabiting a realm beyond things, has its ground in being. For what ought to be is what the intellect perceives to be intended, i.e., stretched towards, or called for, by the existent's essence. Now it is desirable that a thing attain the fulfilment of its being. And since the desirable is what is good, it follows that the good ought to be.42 Goodness, like Truth, Unity, and Beauty, is coterminous with Being in that it is Being perceived under the aspect of its desirability. In other words, being, that which is, is desirable. It is desirable that a dog, for example, possess all that belongs to the fullness or completeness of its being, which fullness or completeness is dictated by the exigencies of its essence; acute hearing, say. The absence of this acuteness is an evil, for it frustrates the completion, i.e., the actualization, of its being. By the same principle, the absence of the capacity to know intellectually in a dog is not an evil, since that capacity is not demanded by the dog's essence; hence, the actualization of that capacity is not a condition of the completion of the dog's specific being. But, with man, not only is the capacity to know intellectually a necessary constituent of his essence, so that it is desirable, which is to say, good, that he exercise that capacity, so that, accordingly, he ought to exercise it and ought to be permitted to exercise it; it is also, for the same essential reason, desirable that he be allowed to exercise his autonomy. In virtue of what man actually is-a rational being ••Heinrich Rommen, The Natural Law. Tr. by Thomas Hanley. St. Louis & London: E. Herder Book Co., 1947; Ch. 8. ONTOLOGICAL BASIS OF HUMAN RIGHTS 455 possessed of free choice-, it is desirable and thus, good, that he pursue his self-perfection. Hence, he ought to be permitted to do so. III As stipulated by the opening sentence of this essay, the focus has been the real, or ontological, basis of human rights, not the topic of rights itself. Consequently, no attempt has been made to enumerate the specific rights that naturally belong to a selfperfecting being, such as man, or to discuss political, social, and economic rights. 43 Topics such as these exceed the scope of this essay. Nevertheless, the very task of demonstrating the ontological basis of 'rights requires a preliminary discussion of fundamental human rights or moral rights, i. e., of those rights which do not belong to a man by virtue of a particular station or position in life but which belong to every man simply because he is a man, rights which are entailed by the conclusion that he is a self-perfecting being. Otherwise, the bridge between the ontological basis of rights and natural rights themselves will remain problematic. For, as we have already seen, an essential part of such a preliminary discussion is a response to those who maintain that the attempt to ground rights in nature inevitably falls victim to the fallacy of going from an is to an ought. The fundamental human rights that immediately and obviously follow from the conclusion that man is a self-perfecting being are those such as the right to life, to personal freedom, the right to pursue one's own perfection as a rational and moral being, etc. 44 As the right to life is the primary right, a discussion of it alone should be sufficient to illustrate the connection between rights and man's ontological structure. Mere existence is, perhaps, an ambiguous value. But insofar as a man must exist in order to exercise his capacity for selfperfection, the right to life is of primary value; all other rights ••Cranston, op. mt., p. 24. Maritain, The Rights of Man and Natural Law. Tr. by Doris C. Anson. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1948; pp. 71-72. 44 456 RAYMOND DENNEHY are secondary to it in importance, for they presuppose it. Accordingly, the direct killing of an innocent man, i.e., murder, is the most blatant violation of man's essence as a self-per..: fecting or rational being. It is the extreme example of using him as a mere means to an end; it is the act which completely and finally frustrates the striving of his being and, consequently, which unequivocally denies the truth that he exists, in some significant sense, for his own sake. Because his capacity for selfperfection has its basis in his very essence as a being possessed of immanent powers, such as knowing and choosing, it can justifiably be deduced that the right to life does not depend on the presence in man of qualities which are accidental to that essence, such as degree of intelligence, health or wholeness of body, skin color or external factors, such as socio-economic circumstances. 45 To think so is to .subscribe to a biologism which regards man's higher faculties as no more than sophisticated manifestations of biological instincts and, consequently, to evaluate human life according to standards of animal vitality. On the epistemological level, .such a valorization of accidental qualities rests on a positivistic philosophy in that it excludes all considerations about the worth of human life, confining itself instead to what are amenable to the methodology of the sciences: sensible, measurable properties. According to these perspectives, a seriously deformed or crippled human being possesses little worth because worth is determined on the basis of either his capacity to " produce " for society or his capacity to participate in a hedonistic or egotistical way of life. The same assessments, are made with regard to a terminal patient suffering great pain. Yet, even under such extreme circumstances, human beings are capable of achieving depths of selfrealization that are impossible under more benign circumstances.46 For, as a rational being, man attains his self-perfec••Yves Simon, The Philosophy of Democratic Government. Chicago & London: University of Chicago Press, 1966 (paperback); p. 203. 46 Johannes Messner, Social Ethics. Tr. by J. J. Doherty. Revised Edition. St. Louis & London: B. Herder Book Co., 1965; p. 27. ONTOLOGICAL BASIS OF HUMAN RIGHTS 457 tion by transcending the limitations of his finite, temporal self. Through the immanence of knowing, he achieves ever higher levels of reality as he identifies himself ontologically with Being and its facets, Truth, Goodness, Beauty, and ultimately with the fullness of Being, God; and all the while he retains his own unique selfhood. To be sure, man is not always free to choose his circumstances, but he is free to determine how he shall respond to them. 47 Hence, owing to the transcendent and, therefore, pervasive reality of the aforesaid desiderata, the deformed, the moribund, and the pain-ridden can attain their self-perfection by choosing to respond to their circumstances in accordance with their desire to possess Being, Goodness, Truth, and Beauty in their lives. It will doubtless be objected that, even granting this conception of human value, it does not cover the seriously retarded, the hopelessly comatose, and the unborn, for, being incapable of functioning as rational beings, they cannot be regarded as self-perfecting. But herein lies a fallacious equivocation which may well have its roots in the Cartesian conception of man as a. thinking being. It is correct to say that those suffering extensive brain damage, as well as the prenatal child whose development is incomplete, lack the capacity for rational and even conscious activity. But what is meant by this use of " capacity " is that, owing to some neuro-physiological impediment, or lack of development, such people cannot exercise their natural capacities for rational activity or consciousness. Only because man by nature possesses the capacity for such activities does it make sense to say of a given man that he lacks the " capacity." Properly speaking, we do not say this of a particular brute animal or inanimate being hut of the whole species. Hence, the correct conception of man is not that of Descartes but rather that of Aristotle: man is a " rational animal." The superiority of such a conception is that it defines man in terms of his essence or nature, not in terms of capacities which properly belong to that essence. Because man is a rational animal, he "Aristotle, Nichomachean Ethics, Bk. III 1109b 30-lllOa 80. 458 RAYMOND DENNEHY has the capacity to know; but until that capacity is actualized in particular acts of knowing, it remains in a state of potency. Yet it would be absurd to suppose that man is rational or a knower only when he is engaged in the act of knowing or only so long as his neurocortical faculties are unimpaired. Similarly, the prenatal child cannot be said to be less than a human being simply because these faculties are yet in anascent or inchoate stage, for these faculties and their potency for development are proper to the essence man. It is, therefore, as much a violation of man's essence as a selfperfecting being directly to kill the retarded and the unborn as it is directly to kill the physically and mentally whole. For, in terms of man's essence, considerations such as degree of physical health, degree of intelligence, stage of neurocortical development, etc., are irrelevant to the question of whether he is a human being. The ontological basis for the right to life is the essence man as it is embodied in this and that existent human being.48 * * * * The assertion that the right to life has an ontological basis is bound to provoke questions about the validity of the distinction between justifiable and unjustifiable homocide. If it is justifiable to kill an unjust aggressor and for the state to execute a condemned criminal, this cannot be because, in virtue of performing unjust actions, they have .suffered an ontological transmutation. The question arises, therefore: if it is wrong to kill the innocent because man is by nature a self-perfecting being, then why is it not equally wrong to kill unjust aggressors in self-defense and condemned criminals? This question does not constitute a fatal objection to the argument of this essay. From the position that certain rights, such as the right to life, are due man because of what he is by nature, it does not follow that these rights cannot justifiably be suspended or abrogated in specific cases. For the outrage 48 Simon, Zoe. cit. ONTOLOGICAL BASIS OF HUMAN RIGHTS 459 of murder does not consist merely in the killing of a human being but in the unjust killing of him. It is in his being killed unjustly that the victim is used as a mere means to an end. As Kant insisted,49 to execute a condemned criminal is to treat him as an end in himself-as an autonomous agent-in that the execution holds him accountable for his crime. The justification for such killings lies in the appeal to justice. So, too, in the case of unjust aggression. The right to life surely implies the right to protect one's life. Having exhausted all other means of protecting himself against his attacker, the intended victim may justifiably kill him. A distinction might be drawn here · between the possession of a right and the exerciseof that right. 50 The criminal does not lose possession of his right to life; that right is inalienable for the simple reason that his essence is inalienable. But in the name of justice he forfeits the right to exercise that right. Conversely, induced abortion, mercy-killing, eugenic killings, killing the innocent, whether for personal reasons or for the good of the state, etc., are all examples of murder-i. e., morally unjustifiable killing-in that each uses a human being as a mere means to an end. The position, presented at the outset of this essay, that society has the right to decide who shall live and who shall die, who shall be allowed to have children, etc., in order to ensure" the quality of life," seeks its justification in society's obligation to protect itself from the moral and political chaos that accompany overpopulation, famine, pollution of the natural environment, etc. But the error of this position is two-fold. First, the members of a teeming population cannot reasonably be accused o:f injustice simply because they are members of a population whose rapid growth exceeds the capacity of the economy or natural environment to accommodate such increase. They have not, therefore, forfeited the right to exercise their ••I. Kant, The Metaphysical Elements of Justice. Tr. by John Ladd. Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill Company, 1965 (paperback); pp. 99-106. ••Maritain, Man and the State. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1956; p. 102. 460 RAYMOND DENNEHY right to life. Second, the position rests on a faulty conception of the common good and ultimately on a faulty conception of man. Since each man, woman, and child is a self-perfecting being, the common good cannot be realized at the expense of any innocent human being. Society constitutes a reality but only in a secondary sense, for it is a col"lective whole; individual human beings are the primary realities inasmuch as each constitutes a substance with its own natural principle of unity. The collective whole called ' society ' exists for the sake of these primary substances insofar as it derives its rationale and organization from their needs. Because each member of society is a self-perfecting being, the common good is realized only in laws, institutions, and policies which offer him the social, economic, political, cultural, and moral conditions for his fulfilment. Among sub-rational groups, as we have seen in the first part of this essay, no common good is possible. Lacking the capacity for truly immanent activity and hence, for self-perfecting activity, each member of the bee-hive, say, exists totally for the good of the hive; each is a mere part of the whole, and since, by definition, the good of the whole is the good of each of its parts, the good of each bee is realized in its being sacrificed for the sake of the hive. 51 But the deliberate killing of innocent human beings, even for the noblest of ends-the survival of the species, for examplecannot contribute to the common good, let alone to human progress, for each man is a whole within the social whole, not a mere part of it. Such a procedure is, therefore, intrinsically immoral, as it subverts man's essence by treating him as a mere part. Far from furthering the common good, it destroys it. The survival of the human species is in itself an ambiguous achievement. What was said above with regard to human existence applies also to the species; mere survival is nugatory. Survival derives its proper and full value from the fact that it enables a human being to perfect himself. 51 Maritain, The Person and the Common Good, Ch. IV. ONTOLOGICAL BASIS OF HUMAN RIGHTS 461 A word about suicide must be said in connection with the validity of the distinction between justifiable and unjustifiable homicide. Some suppose that suicide is not an intrinsically immoral act because it is his own life that the suicide voluntarily terminates. Implicit in this supposition lies the failure to understand that the immorality of directly destroying human life follows from the objective structure and finalities of the human essence and from the intrinsic end of the act itself. The question of whether the suicide was committed freely, like the question of the suicide's motive, pertains to a consideration of moral guilt and personal responsibility but not to any consideration of the objective morality or immorality of the act. For the same reason that the direct killing of an innocent man is immoral, so is suicide immoral: the suicide treats himself as a mere means to an end, in this case, as a mere means to his personal ends. Nevertheless, he thereby subverts his essence as a self-perfecting and self-determining being. Just as others are bound to treat him with justice, so is he bound to treat himself with justice. CONCLUSION The thrust of this essay has been to establish the claim, underlying the doctrine of natural right, that rights are due man in virtue of what he naturally and really is and not in virtue of social prerogative. That what man is can be rationally grounded and explicated only through a metaphysical approach is doubtless a scandal to some and a perplexity to others. For, despite its astounding scientific and technological achievements, ours is an age of intellectual darkness, an age of metaphysical blindness. The influences of Nominalism, Positivism, and Irrationalism conspire to persuade modern man that the intellect, far from having the capacity to know what things are, is confined to a knowledge of their sensible properties or, at least, to a knowledge of our measurements of them. But, if their essences are unknowable, then the things that confront us in the world must remain unintelligible and the " dignity of man " can be no more than a high-sounding phrase lacking all basis in reality. 462 RAYMOND DENNEHY Man must appear a material being essentially no different from sub-rational beings. The reason for this devastating egalitarianism is clear. The denial of the intelligibility of things is also the denial of the immaterial, for, as argued above, a thing is knowable to the extent that it is free from the constrictions and opaqueness of matter. The essence of a material thing is not material-though being the intelligible formula of the thing, it is its formal cause, i.e., it accounts for the kind and order of its material properties. Thus, the denial of the intellect's capacity to know anything but sensible properties or impressions reduces all of Nature, including man, to so much material to be manipulated and expended by the will of society. It is no coincidence that the rise of the totalitarian state and with it a gigantic technology, rendered monstrous for want of a guiding vision and which increasingly debases man, should parallel the decay of faith in the intellect and the emergence of an anti-metaphysical outlook. As Collingwood has maintained, 52 the decline of metaphysics signals the decline of civilization. Yet, men everywhere, whether educated or not, have understood-at least with a practical knowledge and in varying degrees-the special dignity of man. The universality of this insight is confirmed, if nowhere else, in the growing demand of peoples throughout the world for freedom and national identity. It is to the credit of Thomistic philosophy that it shares with this common sense knowledge an understanding of the proportion that exists between intellect and reality and, hence, of the intellect's natural capacity to know the essences of things. Growing out of the very soil of common sense, the doctrines of Thomism express the systematic development of speculative intellect's purifying reflections upon it. Thus, rather than being an exotic doctrine imported a priorito justify the rights of man, the metaphysical argument for that doctrine represents the natural movement of the intellect from the data of our percep•• R. G. Collingwood, An Essay on Metaphysics. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1957; pp. 234 & 343. ONTOLOGICAL BASIS OF HUMAN RIGHTS 463 tions of the sensible world to the ontological principles underlying them. Remaining steadfast in its claims on behalf of intellect and of the intelligibility of Nature in the midst of the chaos spawned by philosophical agnosticism and irrationalism, Thomistic philosophy offers a rational, ontologically grounded, defense of the rights and dignity of man. RAYMOND DENNEHY University of San Francisco San Francisco, California THE THEOLOGIAN T OF "HUMANAE VITAE" I HE SEARCH FOR a papal " ghostwriter" should never be construed as an attempt to undercut the authority of the pope for whom a theologian wrote. Humanae Vitae is the work of Pope Paul VI. It was his original decision that an authoritative pronouncement of the Church teaching would be made. It was in virtue of his power and authority that the birth control commission was first charged with, and later augmented in membership for the task of, advising him in this matter. He it was who took the question out of the competency of the Second Vatican Council and reserved it to himself. He it was who passed judgment on the Commission's work, rejected it and then sought other counsel. The decision and teaching embodied in Humanae Vitae are Pope Paul's. However, these facts should never be so affirmed as to deny the legitimate agency of other people in the achievement of this encyclical and its teaching. And this is where the significance of Gustave Martelet enters in. The teaching of Humanae Vitae was first made public on Monday, July Q9th, 1968. Two days later, at a weekly general audience Pope Paul took a rather personal tone and spoke to those present about some of his feelings during the long time of the encyclical's preparation. But he stopped short of commenting on the encyclical itself: We will not speak to you now about this document, partly because the seriousness and delicacy of the subject seem to transcend the ordinary simplicity of this weekly talk, and partly because there are already and will be more publications on the encyclical available to those interested in the subject. 1 1 Paul VI, "Address to a generd audience, July 81, 1968," English translation in The Pope Speaks 13 (1968) 206; cf. Acta Apostolicae Sedis 60 (1968) 527-580: "Le Nostre parole." 464 THE THEOLOGIAN OF " HUMANAE VITAE " 465 In the text of this speech as it is recorded in theActaApostolicae Sedis,. there is a footnote at this point offering for example Gustave Martelet's Amour eonjugal et renouveau coneiliaire. No other work or author is mentioned. No further information as to date or place of publication is given regarding the one work cited. Nevertheless this reference is easily identifiable as the small, 47-page monograph which the printer Xavier Mappus of Lyon published for Gustave Martelet in 1967. Here is an essay that was written at least a year before the encyclical now being cited as an aid to anyone trying to understand the papal teaching! A Spanish theologian surveying the literature on Humanae Vitae did not hesitate to draw out for his readers the fullest implications: When Paul VI ... referred to the works that treated this, explicitly citing only one work, that of Martelet, he gave to the clear and comprehensive exposition of this essay the most authoritative praise possible. 2 Logic can only proceed to ask, when the pope said there " will be more publications on the encyclical," was this not a reference to Martelet's apologetical works that appeared so soon after the encyclical's presentation to the public? 8 Indeed, there had been 2 Manuel Cuyas, "En torno a la Humanae Vitae," in Selecciones de Libros. Actualidad Bibliografica de filosofia y teologia (June, December 1969), p. 43: " Cuando Pablo VI . . . se remiti6 a las obras que lo trataban exprofeso citando explicitamente una sola obra, la del P. Martelet, hizo de la diafana y compendiosa exposici6n de este opusculo la mas autorizada alabanza que cabia." 3 Martelet's apologetic on behalf of Humanae Vitae can be considered to have begun with his announcement and presentation of the encyclical at a press conference in Paris's National Bureau of Public Opinion on Monday morning, July 29th, 1968. (V. La Croix, Tuesday, July 30, 1968, "Apres la publication de l'encyclique, Le P. Martelet: Un appel a l'authenticite integrale de l'homme.") Though the papal document was dated July 25th, 1968, its general publication did not occur until the 29th of July when carefully planned press conferences similar to the one in Paris occurred throughout the world. In order that the encyclical and its official translations might be presented along with some appropriate context and commentary, a competent authority was chosen to address the press and to answer any questions. Four days later, on Friday night, August 2nd, Martelet was heard on French national radio in a two-hour broadcast of a panel-discussion on the encyclical. The broadcast was dominated by the brilliant and forceful exchange between Martelet 466 LAWRENCE B. PORTER considerable journalistic speculation after the publication of Humanae Vitae identifying Gustave Martelet as the very author of the encyclical. And even some noted theologians made their contribution to such speculation. 4 However, there were some and Marc Oraison, a priest and physician who had done much popular writing on sexuality. (V. La Croix, Tuesday, August 6th, 1968, "Au micro d'Europe no. 1: un debat sur l'Encyclique.") One week later, on Friday, August 9th, Martelet published in the Paris daily, La Croix, an article entitled, "The Pope's Duty and His Right." This essay made plain that it was merely an introduction to a series of articles which was to appear in the same and by means of which the author hoped to express in a more considered manner those things which, under the exigencies of a radio talk-show, he feared he had not made clear enough (V. La Croix, August 11th and Hth, 1968, "L'encyclique et l'Eglise In the des consciences; " August 13th: " Vrai et faux principe de totalite.") September issue of the magazine Chretiens d'aujourd'hui there appeared yet another article: " Pourquoi le pape a parle et ce qu'il a voulu dire." These brief, journalistic efforts were soon followed up by more extended and scholarly efforts: two lengthy essays " Pour mieux comprcndre l'encyclique 'Humanae Vitae'," in the November and December issues of Louvain University's Nouville Revue Theologique 90 (1968) 897-917, 1009-1064. In the meantime, Martelet had been giving numerous conferences and lectures aimed at defense and catechesis of the encyclical's teaching. He had even written a letter to the editor of London's Sunday Times. intending to clarify ideas which one of that newspaper's reporters attributed to him. (V. " Lettre au Sunday Times" in Existence humaine et amour (Paris, 1969). pp. 193-195.) All this effort came to something of a climax with the publication on February 9?6th, 1969 of Existence humaine et amour. Martelet had assembled for publication in paperback-book form the material which had originally appeared in Nouvelle Revue Tkeologique, this time reworked and written so as to present an even more clear and cogent argument. Appended to these essays were all the articles from La Croix, the essay from Chretiens d'aujourd'hui, and the letter to the editor of the Sunday Times. In the preface Martelet stated his intention to make his material available to as wide an audience as possible and in a more permanent form. •At the same time Martelet was pursuing his apologetical task in France, there were others, on the continent, in England and America, who were identifying him with the very composition of the encyclical itself. On August 4th, within a week of the encyclical's publication, Martelet's photograph appeared on page one of London's Sunday Times, heading an interview article entitled " The Jesuit Behind the Encyclical Says: It's Up to You." On Monday, August 5th, a similar article appeared in the Dutch newspaper De tigd, "Adviseur paus. (G. Martelet) over encycliek. Het individuels geweten op eerste plaats." And in the New York Times of Sunday, August 11th, an article on Humanae Vitae identified Martelet as one of the key advisors to the pope (V. "Pope Counseled by Secret Panel: conservative 12-man group advised on encyclical," by Robert C. Doty.) Soon other publications picked up these or were recounting similar THE THEOLOGIAN OF" HUMANAE VITAE" 467 counter-voices, other experts who, while they might accept the rumor of Martelet's role in the composition of the papal teaching, were not so ready to admit of any paramount significance in this for our understanding of the encyclical. Denis O'Callaghan, a moral theologian on the faculty of Saint Patrick's College in Maynooth, Ireland, reviewed Martelet's work Existence humaine et amour, finding it, " a well balanced apologia for Humanae Vitae." 5 But O'Callaghan also had his reservations. While he found Martelet's arguments intelligent and discerning, in the final analysis he was not entirely convinced of their appropriateness to the matter at hand: Opinions may differ as to how far this is a fair and literal interpretation of Humarwe Vitae. Even though the Pope avoids the distorted position of Casti Connubii, which used sin and wrong action as interchangeable terms, it is somewhat unreal to read his concept of intrinsic evil in terms other than those of his predecessors, Pius XI and Pius XII.6 rumors. Much of this journalistic speculation amounted to little more than an incidental remark in the midst of an article dealing with the papal teaching or public reaction to it. But there were also some newspaper reports offering lengthy and elaborate explanations of the encyclical's process of composition. Whatever expression it took, all such speculation was alike in claiming to be based upon the most unimpeachable but, of course, equally unmentionable sources. Despite this claim, reports could vary even in the same newspaper. The Tablet of London first cited, " Fr. Gustave Martelet, S, J., who was thought to have been the chief 'ghost writer' of the encyclical," (v. August 10th, 1968 [vol. 222] "The Argument Goes On: Further Catholic Reactions to Humanae Vitae"), only to follow up this notice a week later with a considerably reduced estimation of his role: " It is also believed that there were two previous drafts of the encyclical. The first was written by a special commission of the Doctrinal Congregation while Cardinal Ottaviani was pro-prefect. The membership of this commission is not known, though it is reported that Fr. Gustave Martelet, the French Jesuit, worked on it for a time before withdrawing because of illness." ( v. August 17th, 1968, [vol. 222] "The Background to the Encyclical"). Bernard Haring, in an article entitled "The Encyclical Crisis," (Commonweal 88 [1968] 593) drew attention to what he called the extraordinary significance which the encyclical gives to the role of rhythm creating naturally fertile and infertile periods. He identified in this the influence of specific theologians and thus was able to conclude: "Father Lcstapis, S. J., and Father Martelet, S. J .... are clearly among the superconsultors.'' 5 Denis F. O'Callaghan, "Humanae Vitae in Perspective: Survey of Recent French Writing," in Irish Theological Quarterly 37 (1970) 316. 0 Ibid., pp. SI 7-318. 468 LA WREN CE B. PORTER Another member of Maynooth's faculty was even more critical of the value of Martelet's work. Father Patrick McGrath, S. J., was one of the encyclical's staunchest defenders and a rigorous interpreter of the pope's teaching in the face of those who he considered were attempting to water it down. In an article "On Not Re-interpreting Hum.anae Vitae," McGrath said of Martelet's interpretation of the encyclical: It is easy to sympathize with the difficulties that moral theologians have experienced since the publication of Humanae Vitae; nevertheless, there can, I believe, be only one opinion about Martelet's theory-it is not a fair interpretation of the encyclical. Indeed, it it is not easy to see how it could be called an interpretation in any significant sense.7 It is interesting to note, however, the somewhat paradoxical situation that while Martelet's critics will challenge, and in at least one instance, deny outright any value to Martelet's interpretation, none attempts to deny Martelet a role in the authorship of the work. In fact they all are satisfied to hand on the conjectures about Martelet's part in the composition of the encyclical. Denis O'Callaghan had spoken of "Martelet who has been credited with some responsibility for drafting Humanae Vitae." 8 And McGrath repeats the allegation almost verbatim, citing" a defense of the encyclical by Gustave Martelet, a French Jesuit who is generally credited with some responsibility for drafting Humanae Vitae." 9 What are we to make of this? The meaning of it all is hardly clear. The theologians' remarks only add to the confusion of Gustave Martelet's significance as regards Hum.anae Vitae. But the task of looking for a papal " ghost writer" cannot be left to journalists, for it is a properly theological task. To interpret a papal statement with accuracy we must know some of the theological sources that were influential in the 1 P. J. McGrath, "On Not Re-interpreting Humanae Vitae," ITQ 38 (1971) 130. • O'Callaghan, p. 317. • McGrath, p. 130. THE THEOLOGIAN OF " HUMANAE VITAE " 469 formulation of its teaching. Moreover, those sources usually make themselves known to us, for the ghost writer's task is not complete with the composition of the encyclical; rather after the publication of the document, it is the ghost writer's duty to make available through his own writings authoritative interpretation of the papal teaching. For example, John Noonan, in his history of contraception, shows himself keenly aware of the decisive role played by particular theologians in the formulation of papal teaching. In fact, Noonan insists, not only did Arthur Vermeersch, " the most influential moral theologian of the first part of the twentieth century," help to draft Pius XI's Casti connubii, but it was some of this theologian's peculiar pride and temperament that went into determining the self-righteous tone and severe character of this papal statement: Vermeersch had been stung by Lambeth's [the Anglican bishops' meeting in August of 1930 was the first Christian authoritative body to approve of contraception] reference to Liguorian doctrine on good faith, in the Conference Report's declaration that Rome' recognized that there are some occasions where the rigid maintenance of principle is impossible ' .... Vermeersch's view was that the common good demanded that good faith be destroyed in the confessional. 'Let not confessors,' the encyclical declared, ' permit the faithful to err about this most serious law.' 10 However, Noonan is careful to note that the encyclical's meaning cannot be entirely reduced to the influence of this one theologian. Despite the comprehensive and synthetic treatment accorded marriage in Casti Connubii, there can still be discerned the thought of yet another author, and his contribution makes for a significantly different perspective and treatment of at least one vital issue: If Vermeersch's work was the sole guide to the interpretation of the encyclical, or if the document had used the broad term ' onanism', sterilization would have fallen within the encyclical's condemnation. But ... against the background of this recent question 10 431. John T. Noonan, Jr., Contraception (Cambridge, Mass., 1965), pp. and 470 LAWRENCE B. PORTER Casti Connubii spoke specifically and separately on sterilization. The section was principally drafted by Francis Hurth, a German Jesuit. 11 Noonan is certainly neither without precedent nor alone in taking this approach toward an understanding o:f the encyclical. It is not uncommon to read in the literature after Casti Connubii interpretations of the encyclical that invoke the opinion of a certain writer while inferring the quoted author's peculiar authority regarding the question at hand. And so the American moralist, John Ford, could say: It seems more likely that this passage of the encyclical refers to the motives of the contracting parties rather than to an end to which marriage is objectively and essentially related. This is the interpretation given to it by Father Franz Hurth, whose opinion perhaps has peculiar weight. [my emphasis] 12 But regarding Humanae Vitae, the ghostwriter and his authority are neither so prominent n'or apparent. 11 Ibid., p. 430. C. Ford, S. J., "Marriage: Its Meaning and Purposes," in Theological Studies 3 (1942) 372. One of Francis Hurth's students has given us a description of the career of a papal consultant and ghost writer. It is worth quoting this at some length in order to see more clearly the nature and function of this "office": "Before coming to the Gregorian University Fr. Hurth was professor of moral theology for twenty years (1915-35) at the Jesuit theologate at Valkenburg, Holland. At Valkenburg, besides writing many articles for periodicals, he had prepared a printed volume De VII mandato and a complete set of mimeographed notes on all the other topics pertaining to the course of moral theology. His notes on sexual physiology and psychology and his collection and analysis of replies of the Holy See on the use of the generative faculty comprise the best treatments of these topics that I have ever seen,. As far as I know, none of this material was ever made available in strictly ' published ' form. While he was professor at the Gregorian University, his publications largely consisted of articles in Periodica, especially in the form of commentaries on pronouncements of the Holy See. Very likely it was not through his writings or his teaching that Fr. Hurth exercised his greatest theological influence. His was the behind-the-scenes influence of consultor to the Holy Office and, it seems, to Pius XI and Pius XII; it was generally supposed in Rome that he had more than a little to do with the composition of Casti Connubii; and it is hardly a wild guess to assume that he was in some sense a theological ghost writer for Pius XII." From "Notes on Moral Theology" in Theological Studies (1963) 12 John THE THEOLOGIAN OF " HUMANAE VITAE " 471 After the publication of Humanae Vitae, there was some speculation that Joseph Fuchs, S. J., a German moral theologian at the Gregorian University and a member of the birth control commission, had had a role in the composition of the encyclical.13 No douhti such .speculation was prompted by the "peculiar weight" of this theologian's opinion which Noonan has described in these terms: " Fuchs had succeeded to the mantle of Vermeersch and Hurth a.s the leading Jesuit authority in Rome on marital morality." 14 However, between the time of Noonan's observation (1965) and the publication of the encyclical (1967), something had occurred to jeopardize seriously Fuchs's hitherto undisputed position of authority in these matters. Initially Fuchs entered the birth control controversy defending the Church's traditional teaching on the morality of contraception; but during his participation on the papal birth control commission's proceedings, his convictions underwent a decided reversal of opinion. 15 Fuchs emerged from the final session of the commission (April 13th to June 28th, 1966) on the side of those theologians favoring a change in the Church's traditional teaching. This fact is of paramount importance, for it must certainly have eliminated him from any direct role in the composition of a papal .statement so decisively reaffirming the Church's traditional teaching. Significantly, Fuchs issued no public statement after the publication of Humanae Vitae. Now, if indeed the mantle of authority had slipped from Fuchs's shoulders, did Gustave Martelet inherit it? If so, how was this accomplished? The complete answer to these questions will be found only in a detailed history of the birth control de13 Cf. The Tablet (London), Saturday, August 17th, 1968 (vol. 222), p. 827: "Several sources have denied that Fr. Joseph Fuchs, the German Jesuit, a professor of moral theology at Rome's Gregorian University, was a member [of a conjectured Holy Office commission that prepared Humanae Vitae]." "Noonan, p. 501. 1 • Cf. John Horgan's "The History or the Debate," in On Human Life by John Horgan et al., London: Burns & Oates, 1968, pp. 7-26. Also Ambrogio Valsecchi's Controversy: the birth control debate 1959-1968. Trans. from the Italian by Dorothy White, Washington, 1968. 472 LA WREN CE B. PORTER bate and the composition of the encyclical. This task, at least as regards the composition of the encyclical, has yet to be adequately essayed. For the most part this is because much of the documentation is inaccessible in what was, perforce, a secretive process. However, the documentation is available by which one might discern the influence of Martelet's thought in the encyclical and the significance 0£ this £or our understanding of the pope's teaching. In the remainder 0£ this paper we shall survey Gustave Martelet's writings in order to understand the character and content of his theology, and then we shall attempt to determine whether and to what extent his work is a recognizable influence in the encyclical. II It is perhaps a surprising fact, but Gustave Martelet is not a moral theologian. 16 Even the most cursory glance at his bibliography is sufficient to make us aware that Martelet's writings on the morality of contraception are occasional works born out of the theological strife of a debate only tangentially related to the bulk of this theologian's literary efforts. Martelet's serious theological works leading up to the birth control debate dealt with themes from dogmatic theology: for example, sacra.mentality, Christology, revelation. After his apologiae for Humanae Vitae, it is to similar dogmatic themes that Martelet returns. And so Martelet's writings on contraception must be seen within a perspective: his essays on the morality of contraception are not the product of a long term wrestling with questions of sexual or marital morality but are rooted instead 16 Gustave Martelet was born September 1916, at Lyon, France. He pursued his secondary education at the diocesan minor seminary, Saint John Baptist, and two years of philosophy at the major seminary in Lyon before entering the Society of Jesus in 1935. After completing the traditional program of religious formation, he went on to the Society's Gregorian University at Rome where he earned the doctorate. Since he taught fundamental theology and dogma at the Jesuit scholasticate, Lyon-Fourviere. He moved with this faculty to Paris in 1973, where he continues to teach with occasional lecturing at the Gregorian University. Cf. "Note biographique sur I' auteur," p. 5 of G. Martelet's Victoire sur la mort (Lyon, THE THEOLOGIAN OF " HUMANAE VITAE " 473 in his work with fundamental theology and dogma. This fact will direct our first inquiries into Martelet's theology, for we should know something of the character of his dogmatizing. Martelet's doctoral dissertation provides us with a good vantage point from which we might begin our inquiry, for a student's work such as this reveals the theological and methodological formation that shaped the young theologian's mind and the foundation upon which the maturer theologian's thought is built. Presented to the faculty of the Gregorian University at Rome in April of 1955, Martelet's dissertation is a study of First Corinthians 10: 1-11 with special attention to Paul's use of Old Testament texts in his presentation of the themes of baptism and the eucharist. This epistle's numerous references to baptism and the eucharist and Paul's treatment of these themes in terms of Old Testament typologies had often made First Corinthians a source of special interest for the Catholic dogmatist. However, principles of developed in modern times called into question much of the traditional dogmatizing that had proceeded so confidently from these texts. In his dissertation, Martelet singles out the work of Chrysostom and Augustine, for each represents a characteristic tendency in the patristic commentaries. Martelet shows us how Chrysostom was so intensely aware of the originality of the present Christian dispensation that he tended to neglect the proper spiritual significance of the Old Testament figures, seeing them merely as foreshadowings or prophecies of the eucharist and baptism. On the other hand, Augustine was so taken with the profound spiritual sense of the Old Testament figures that he often tended to blur any distinction between the old covenant and the new era of grace, making no significant distinction between the manna in the desert and the eucharist of the Christian assembly. By such comparative study, Martelet was able to distinguish and give clearer expression to the more comprehensive and sophisticated use which Paul made of the typological method and thus to discern more precisely the significance of Paul's sacramentalism: 474 LAWRENCE B. PORTER Whatever were the tendencies of these two great doctors, if one wishes to be faithful to St. Paul he must hold at once for both the richness of the preparation [i.e., the Old Covenant] and the incomparable plenitude of the accomplishment [i.e., the new dispensation] ... such seem to us to be the true dimensions of pauline thought. With an acute sense of the originality of the Christian present, St. Paul illuminates retrospectively the biblical past which thus gives to the Christian sacramental reality its past figurative depth ... [this] pauline point of view [is that] in which the moments of history come together without becoming confused and are distinguished but not separated. 17 What we recognize in this conclusion and the style of inquiry that led to it is a familiarity with scripture and a critical handling of tradition that are the hallmark of the nouvelle theologie .18 Here is a dogmatic theologian who brings to his work a keen awareness of the significance of scripture and history for dogmatic questions. And even more significantly, there is no evidence here of an uncritical defensiveness of tradition 'or the methodical application of one particular philosophical commitment or of .scholastic categories. Between the publication of Martelet's dissertation in 1956 and the publication of Martelet's first book-length study, Victoire sur la mort (154 pages) in 1962, came at least twenty essays. However, it is the book-length study which concerns us not merely because of its comparative length but because it marks a significant point of development in Martelet's thought. Here he brings together ideas from his previous work and gives them an expression and unity which will contribute decisively to his later wrestling with the problematic of contraception. 17 G. Martelet, "Sacrements, figures et exhortation en I Cor. x, 1-11," in Recherches de Science religieuse 44 (1956) 359: "Quoi qu'il en soit d'ailleurs des tendances de ces deux grands Docteurs, il faut tenir tout ensemble si l'on veut etre fidele a saint Paul, et la richesse de Ia preparation, et Ia plenitude incomparable de l'accomplissement ... Telles nous semblent etre Jes vraies dimensions de la pensee paulinienne. Avec un sens tres aigu de l'originalite du present chretien, saint Paul eclaire retrospectivement le passe biblique qui donne ainsi a l'actualite sacramentaire chretienne sa profondeur figurative passee." 18 Martelet's method obviously owes much to the work of both Jean Danielou and Henri de Lubac. He makes explicit allusion to this debt in his Les idees maitresses de Vatican II (Bruges., 1966), p. footnotes 1 and THE THEOLOGIAN OF" HUMANAE VITAE" 475 Martelet's Victoire sur la mort had its origin in a contemporary pastoral problem rather than in speculative theology-the phenomenon of a growing Marxist movement among the French working classes and the challenges which this posed for traditional Christian faith. 19 This small work was originally intended to be little more than a republication, only slightly edited, of some earlier essays. However, in the process of preparing them for publication in book form Martelet came to a significant conclusion: The more I tried in effect to make some corrections . . . the more it appeared to me necessary to reorganize these essays, allowing myself to be led entirely by the evidence which had not ceased to pile up since then: the object of debate between the Church and atheism is, through his relationship to God, man himself.20 One might object that such a theme was hardly new, in fact the contention of de Lubac's The Drama of Atheist Humanism had been precisely that Marxist atheism, in claiming to save man, only resigns him to a worse fate: reducing man to a purely utilitarian status, making him the servant of an historical destiny most men will never see, the final victory of the classless society. But what is significant in Martelet's work is that here humanism is no longer merely a thematic guide but a scientifically applied critical method: 19 This phenomenon first drew the attention of theologians in the decade of the 1940's. Henri de Lubac had published his The Drama of Atheist Humanism as early as 1944. But the Marxist challenge continued to draw the attention of theologians throughout the 1950's. When the entire July 1956 issue of Lumiere et vie was devoted to a study of communism in contemporary France, Martelet's contribution was the essay, "Atheisme et marxisme." Martelet returned to this issue several times again. In 1957 he wrote " Foi et monde moderne" and "l'Atheisme marxiste, tentation et reveil du Chretien" for the Revue de l' Action populaire. These essays and two others that also appeared in Revue de l'Action populaire in 1960 formed the basis for Martelet's booklength study, Victoire sur la mort. 20 G. Martelet, Victoire sur la mart (Lyon, 1962), p. 7: "Plus nous essayions en effet de faire quelques corrections . . . plus il nous est apparu necessaire de reorganiser ces quelques essais, en nous laissant conduire entierement par !'evidence qui n'avait cesse de grandir en nous depuis lors: l'objet du debat entre l'Eglise et l'atheisme, c'est, a travers son rapport a Dieu, l'homme lui-meme." 476 LAWRENCE B. PORTER To claim that between the Church and atheism man himself is the question, is to claim the central place of anthropology. We call anthropology a doctrine about man, elaborated in terms of the functions or duties of universal human situations, such as work, society, religion, love or death ... thus it is that Marxism has or is, just as Stoicism had or was, an anthropology. Likewise a Christian anthropology exists. And it is that of which we wish to speak. 21 In raising the question of the adequacy of a Marxist anthropology Martelet gives added depth and substance to de Lubac's criticism of the Marxist conception of man and history. Martelet's method is to focus precisely upon a certain aspect of that humanity that Marxism overlooks. Martelet chose a " universal human situation " which Christian faith and thought have confronted directly but for which atheistic Marxism has no really satisfying answers: man's mortality. However, Martelet's choice of this particular criterion upon which to challenge the adequacy of a Marxist view of man is not entirely opportunistic; for death is indeed one of the determinants of the human condition, and so it cannot help but make for a decisive test case for any program or philosophy making claims on, for, or about man. How do you explain death? What is its significance for the scheme of things? In order to do that [i.e., raise the anthropological question], it has seemed necessary to us to consider man's relation to death, but because death, like nature, constitutes a supreme embrace of man in this world, it is the limiting situation par excellence, and the irrefutable test of the truth of our understanding of man. 22 21 Ibid., p. 8: " Dire qu'entre l'Eglise et l'atheisme, l'hommc meme fait question, c'est dire la place centrale de l'anthropologie. Nous appelons anthropologie une doctrine sur l'homme, elaboree en fonction des situations humaines universelles, comme sont le travail, la societe, la religion, l'amour ou la mort ... C'cst ainsi que le marxisme a ou est, comme le stoicisme avait ou etait, une anthropologie. Il existe pareillement une anthropologic chretienne. C'est d'elle que nous voulons parler." 22 Loe. cit.: " Pour le faire, ii nous a paru neccssaire de considerer le rapport de l'homme a la mort. Non que christianisme y reduise l'homme, mais parce que la mort comme la nature, constitue un englobant supreme de l'homme dans le monde; elle est la situation limite par excellence, et le test irrefutable de la verite de nos propos sur l'homme." THE THEOLOGIAN OF " HUMANAE VITAE " 477 Later, in Martelet's work on conjugal love and the morality of contraception, he will employ a similar methodology to challenge an emphatically personalist image of man that seems to reduce man's physical or biological nature to a mere utilitarian factor subject to quite arbitrary domination by man's rational faculty. Martelet will insist that the body or the flesh, man's biological nature, must be taken more seriously than that as constitutive element of the universal human condition. But here in this work first formulated as a theological challenge to the adequacy of a marxist-atheist image of man is where Martelet's theological anthropology was developed as a critical tool for theology. The second half of Victoire sur la mort is given over to a more detailed description of a Christian anthropology. And it is here that Martelet develops his thought on the relation between man and nature: When Saint Paul said to the Christians that the ' world ' is for them (I Cor he neither meant to overrate these men nor to naturalize them. Neither to overrate them in leading them to believe that Christianity promised them a way of immediate domination over nature, which would dispense them from all work and from all properly human effort. Nor did he intend to naturalize them by leading them to believe that man is nothing other than a transitory power for domination of the world. He wished simply to situate them as men, along the most classical lines of biblical anthropology, such as appears in Psalm 8, where it is said to God of man: 'Thou hast made him little less than a god, and dost crown him with glory and honor. Thou hast given him dominion over the works of Thy hands; Thou hast put all things under his feet.' 23 •• Ibid., p. 87: "Quand saint Paul dit aux Chretiens que le ' monde ' est a eux, ii ne pretend ni les surfaire, ni Ies naturaliser. Ni les surfaire en leur donnant a croire que le christianisme leur assure une sorte de domination immediate sur la nature, qui les dispenserait de tout travail et de tout effort proprement humain. Ni les naturaliser en Ieur laissant croire que l'homme n'est rien d'autre qu'un pouvoir passager de domination du monde. II veut seulement !es situer comme ho=es, dans la ligne la plus classique de l'anthropologie biblique, telle qu'elle apparait dans le psaume s•, OU ii est dit a Dieu de l'homme: 'A peine le fis-tu moindre qu'un dieu, le couronnant de gloire et de splendeur; tu l'etablis sur I' oeuvre de tes mains, tout fut mis par toi sous ses pieds.'" 478 LAWRENCE B, PORTER Here we meet an important theme in Martelet's work which will become even more significant in the birth control debate because of the question of to what degree man can licitly intervene in the processes of nature. Later in this same essay Martelet indicates more precisely the extent and character of man's dominion over nature: Nature must be spiritually accounted for, and not simply dominated by technology ... The more we affirm man's rights over nature, the more we sound the depths of man's constitutive dependence upon a Gift [i.e. Creation], which he marvelously enriches, perhaps, but in whose activity he is existentially included; for he understands himself only as he discerns in nature the ineradicable sign of his own Source.24 Here Martelet is making what is at least in effect a critical challenge to the validity of man's technological domination of nature. This is another principle which Martelet will invoke when he turns to a consideration of the morality of contraception. The next work of Martelet's to concern us is, again, a booklength study, this time an even more extended effort: Les idees maitresses de Vatican II pages, published in 1966) . This work is the product of Martelet's experience as a peritus at the Second Vatican Council. In the preface to this work, the seminary professor from Lyon describes how he came to be at the Council: Called to Rome, as early as the first session, by the very recently appointed bishop of Fort Archambault (Chad), the author of this book became little by little, by reason of daily association, a theologian, as were some others, for the French-speaking bishops of equatorial Africa. Without being an official peritus of the Council, he was able to follow, as early as the second session, all the conciliar debates, to work in different commissions, and render whatever 24 Ibid., p. 89: "Ia nature doit etre spirituellement comprise, et non pas seulement techniquement dominee ... Plus on affirme done Jes droits de J'homme sur la nature dans le mondc, plus aussi on approfondit la dependance constitutive de I'homme par rapport a un Don, qu'il e!aborc merveilleusernent peut-etre, rnais clans lequel ii est existcntiellement compris et qu'il ne comprend lui-merne qu'en y dechiffrant le signe indestructible de son propre Principe." THE THEOLOGIAN OF " HUMANAE VITAE " 479 services a professional man in such circumstances understood to be required of him and for which he was prepared. 25 Though none of the chroniclers of the Council singles Martelet out for any special attention, all note his presence at meetings and his participation on conciliar commissions. 26 It is principally with regard to the preparatory work of two documents, the dogmatic constitution on the church and the pastoral constitution on the church in the modern world, that we see him most mentioned. From what we have already seen, we know that the section of Gaudium et Spes which treats of atheism and the mystery of death would have provided sure interest for Martelet. The nearest thing we have to a description of Martelet's work at the council is a reference from Xavier Rynne which for all its obliqueness is no less vivid and suggestive: Rising to speak on Monday, October 1963, for the first time since his brief remarks opening discussion on the schema (de ecclesia) Cardinal Ottaviani ... began by an attack on three of the periti or council experts (unnamed but assumed to be Rahner, Ratzinger, and Martel et) whom he accused of soliciting various groups of bishops in favor of a married diaconate. 27 Though he had arrived after the first session and even then only •• G. Martelet, Les idees matfresses de Vatican II (Bruges, 1966), p. 10: "Appele a Rome, des la premiere session,, par l'Evcque tout recemment nomme de Fort-Archambault (Tchad), l'auteur de ces lignes est peu a p.eu devenu, par raison de cohabitation joumaliere, theologien, parmi d'autres, des Evequcs francophones d'Afrique equatoriale. Sans etre expert officiel du Concile, ii a pu suivre, des la 2• session, tous !es debats travailler dans difl'erentes commissions, et rendre quelqu'uns des services pour lesquels un homme de metier peut, en de telles circonstances, s'cntendre requis et se croire prepare." 26 Roberto Tucci notes Martelet's presence as a clerical expert in attendance at the meeting of the Central Subcommission working on Schema 13 (Gaudium et Spes) in Ariccia during the first week of February, 1965, in his "Introduzione storico-dottrinale alla Constituzione pastorale Gaudium et Spes." In La Chiesa e il mondo contcmporane;o. nel Vaticano TI (Turin,, 1966), pp. 17-134 Antoine Wenger notes Martelet along with Danielou, Cougar and other periti in agreement with Cardinals Garrone and Wright of the doctrinal commission treating the Constitution on the Church in his Vatican II: chronique. de la troisieme session (Paris, 1965) . 27 X. Rynne, The Second Session (New York, 1968, 1964), p. 114. 480 LA WHENCE B. PORTER in the capacity of a bishop's personal consultant, Martelet is here pictured amid the most eminent penti and active in the promotion of a significant innovation in Church order, If Martelet appears in Rynne's vignette decisively in the ranks of the liberal majority of the Council, this impression is only affirmed by Martelet's own writings. In a report on the work of the Second Session, Martelet says: Certain members of the Curia have said, during the second session: "Let them chatter! When they have finished, we will take things in hand once again." If it was their intention it was an illusion. What happened during the second session was not chatter. In the strange guise of a Latin very often roughly handled, there was a mystery of word and spirit. Through certain Council speeches of unequal value-how could it be otherwise?-consciences were expressed and, searching the conscience of others, sometimes without their knowing it, the dead ground of deep-rooted habits was dug up and turned over, barren stubble and meadows without grass ... the ground of faith was tilled, that will receive the shower of grain cast by the Sower.28 And Yves Cougar has more than once called attention to Martelet's studies of the Council and its work, calling Martelet's essay, " The Church and the World: toward a new conception," a remarkable study of that profound transition effected by the Council in its Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, a transition from a medieval notion of the relation between the temporal and the spiritual which was conceived juridically and politically and lasted right up until this Council only to be re28 G. Martelet, "Horizon theologique de Ia deuxieme session du Concile," Nouvelle Revue Theologique 86 (1964) 450: "Certains membres de Ia Curie auraient dit, au cours de la deuxieme session: ' Laissons-les caqueter! Quand ils auront fini, nous reprendrons Jes choses en mains.' Si le propos est veritable, ii etait illusoire. Ce qui s'est passe durant la deuxieme session n'est pas du caquetage. Dans l'etrange appareil d'un latin souvent malmene, ce fut un mystkre de parole et d'esprit. A travers des certaines d'interventions, de valeur inegale-eomment en saurait-il autrement?-des consciences se sont exprimees et, cherchant Ia conscience des autres, ont parfois a leur insu, fouille et retourne la couche morte des habitudes invetkrees, des chauves steriles et des prairies sans herbe . . . la terre arable de la foi, qui recevra la volee des grains lances par le Semeur." THE THEOLOGIAN OF" HUMANAE VITAE" 481 placed by one conceived on the " anthropological plane of personal belief." 29 Martelet's book-length study, The Major Ideas of Vatican II, is significant not only for its treatment of the Council arid its work but also for the style and method Martelet employs in his analysis. Martelet's synthetic treatment is not well represented · by this less-than-happy attempt at an English translation of the title. The subtitle, " introduction to the spirit of the Council " is more to the point, for Martelet's study is based upon what he claims to have observed as three characteristic approaches of the Council to its work: a return to the sources, especially liturgical and biblical; the resolution of paradoxes in the mystery of Christ; and renewal according to the signs of the timesthe Church's dialogue with the world. If this scheme bears more than a slight resemblance to the program of the " nouvelle theologie," this is not without some measure of justification; the " spirit" of the work of Congar, Danielou and de Lubac was indeed a significant influence upon the work oi the Council. In fact some have seen the Council as a vindication of these theologians from the cloud of doubt and suspicion cast upon their work by Humani Generis. But Martelet's appraisal of the Council's work is not merely that of a student who can do no more than recognize the influences of his teachers. Martelet sees something more; the council fathers did more than just follow the program of the "nouvelle theologie": Having thus assured a genuine return to the sources, safeguarding that paradoxical union of contraries which means its sincere adherence to the mystery of Christ, the Council inaugurates a spiritual renewal of the signs, which is identified in our days with an integral love for man and his world ... the word ' integral ' is without doubt one of the key words of this Constitution. It is because of this in any case that the Council characterizes ceaselessly here the way in which it approaches the vocation of all men and of the entire man. 29 Yv.es Cougar, "Commentary on Part I, Chapter IV of Gaudium et Spes," in Commentary on the Documents of Vatican II, vol. 5 (New York, 1969), p. fn. 9. LAWRENCE B. PORTER See notably Gaudium et Spes 10,2; 11,1; 57,l; 59,l; 61,1; 63,l; 64,l; 75,l; 75,3; 91,l ... 30 Martelet's own thoughtful considerations of a Christian anthropology made him particularly attentive to the vital importance of the image of man in Gaudium et Spes. Commentators on this document have at times voiced the criticism that the image of man in the council's statement is not a complete one, but is much too optimistic. Thus the American moralist Richard McCormick said of Vatican II's openness and sensitivity to contemporary expressions of man's needs and desires: The Second Vatican Council, in its great document on the Church in the Modern World, showed itself highly sensitive to these resonances, so much so that at times it appears to have forgotten that man was, is and always will be sinful man.31 The tendencies which McCormick identifies here would not be the cause of such apprehension for a dogmatic theologian like Martelet who can insist that Gaudium et Spes's very positive regard for contemporary man is part of a larger, more integral notion of man contained in this Council's work. Martelet would insist that the Council employed an integral Christian anthropology which could quite adequately take account of man's sinful inclination while at the same time allowing for that other perspective upon man which focuses upon his capacity to respond gracefully to God's initiative. As a dogmatist, and more than any moral theologian, Martelet was aware of the importance of this integral notion of man, the fuller image of man, 80 G. Martelet, Les idees ... , pp. 186-187: "Ayant done assure un vrai rctour aux sources, sauvegardant cette paradoxale union des contraires qui signifie son adhesion sincere au Seigneur, le Concile inaugure un renouveau spirituel des signes, qui s'identifie de nos jours avec un amour integral de l'homme et de son monde ... Ce mot " integral " est sans doutc un des mots cles de cette Constitution. C'est par Jui en tout cas que le Concile caracterise sans cesse ici la maniere dont ii aborde la vocation de taus les hommes et de tout l'homme, Voir notarnment GS, 10, 11, l; 57, l; 59, 1, 61, l; 63, l; 64, l; 75, l; 75, 3; 91, 1 ... " 81 R. McCormick's "Foreword" to J. F. Dedek's Contemporary Sexual Morality (New York, 1971), pp. vii-viii. THE THEOLOGIAN OF " HUMANAE VITAE " 483 the comprehensive Christian anthropology, that underlies Gaudium et Spes's teaching. And, as we shall see, Martelet will insist upon the importance of an adequate anthropology in the controversy over the morality of contraception. Now that we have acquainted ourselves with the character of Martelet's theologizing as a dogmatist, we can at last turn to a reading of his work on conjugal morality and contraception. Martelet first broached the topic of conjugal morality in a rather indirect manner when in 1958 he wrote an article, "L'eglise, la loi et la grace," for the Jesuit publication Christus. In this essay Martelet was concerned principally with the role and function of law in Christian morality, and he uses the example of the Church's rather strict judgment on matters of conjugal morality as illustration of this: That the Church demands in an absolute manner certain behavior of human morality is a great scandal for many Christians, and even more so for non-Christians. For the former it seems that the Church would be more ' spiritual ' if she soon abandoned her pretensions to legislate regarding human values. For the others, the Church is mdulging an illusion in pretending to go beyond man, she cannot so speak of him knowingly. With one or the other it seems that the Church's intervention in man's world is not only out of place, but, why not say it, harmful. Doesn't she only end up burdening man with the yoke of an impractical law? So for example take what she teaches regarding fidelity. In the name of love, she makes fidelity a requirement without compromise. And thus the law of the Church leads, by means of the condemnation of onanism, to the slow but sure destruction of love. 82 32 G. Martelet, "L'eglise, la Joi et la grace," in Christus 5 (1958), 205: " Que l'Eglise exige de fa<;on absolue des comportements de moralite humaine, tel est un des grands scandales de beaucoup de chretiens, et a plus forte raison de non-chretiens. Il semble aux premiers que I'Eglise serait plus ' spirituelle' si elle abandonna't une bonne fois ses pretensions a legiferm· sur les valeurs humaines. Pour !es autres, l'Eglise serait dans !'illusion a pretendre depasser l'homme; elle ne peut done parler de Jui en connaissance de cause. Aux uns comme autres, ii semble que son intervention dans le monde humain soit deplacee, et, pourquoi ne pas le dire? nocive. N'en vint-elle pas a faire peser sur l'homme le jong d'une Joi impraticable? C'est ainsi, par exempie, qu'en faisant de la fidelite, au nom meme de !'amour, une exigence sans compromis possible, la Joi de l'Eglise aboutirait, a trav.ers la condarnnation de l'onanisme, a Ia lente mais sure destruction de !'amour, au norn meme de la vie." 484 LAWRENCE B. PORTER In answering this objection to the role and function of law in Christian morality, Martelet's method is at one with all that we have seen of his work thus far. He insists upon an integral Christian anthropology, that is an image of man which takes into consideration the concept of law within the encompassing perspective of the doctrine of grace. Here, Martelet is simply further elaborating his theological anthropology by insisting upon grace as a constitutive factor in a truly Christian image of man: Law is for the Church nothing other than the expression of man which Jesus Christ makes possible in the order of grace. Thus there is not, in the eyes of the Church, any justifiable scandal in the face of the law, because there is no authentic requirement of the law which is not like the simple reverse side of grace ... Without doubt the Church knows that man, as generous as he may be, cannot by himself live all his truth as a man, since this truth divinely surpasses him. But, instead of preaching discouraged abandon before that which is humanly impossible, she declares the necessity and announces the possibility of a complete spiritual rebirth of man. 'Unless he be born again of water and the spirit, no one can enter into the Kingdom.' Nicodemus, already initiated into this mystery by Christ himself, did not recognize in it the customary themes of his own wisdom, no more so does modern man. And more than one Christian finds himself in the same situation. That is nevertheless the only consequence to which logically the Church can lead us.ss ••Ibid., p. !214: "La loi n'est, pour l'Eglise, rien d'autre que l'expression de l'homme, tel que Jesus-Christ le i:end possible dans l'ordre de la grace. Il n'y a done pas, aux yeux de l'Eglise, de scandale justifie en face de la loi, parce qu'il n'y a pas d'exigence authentique de la loi qui ne soit comme un simpl.e envers de la grace. Sans doute l'Eglise sait-elle que l'homme., si genereux qu'il soit, ne peut par lui-meme vivre toute sa verite d'homme, puisque, cette verite le depasse divinement. Mais, au lieu de precher !'abandon decourage devant ce qui est humainement impossible, ell.e declare la necessite et annonce la possibilite d'une renaissance spirituelle totale de l'homme. ' Nu!, s'il ne renait de l'eau et de !'Esprit, ne peut entrer dans le Royaume.' Nicoderne, jadis initie a ce rnystere par le Christ lui-meme, n'y reconnaissait pas Jes themes coutumiers de sa sagess.e; l'homme moderne, non plus. Et plus d'un chretien se trouve dans le meme cas. C'est pourtant la seule consequence a laquelle nous accule logiquement l'Eglise." THE THEOLOGIAN OF " HUMANAE VITAE " 485 This work is as good as any with which to understand Martelet's peculiar and characteristic contribution to the birth control debate. The ·essay is hardly remarkable for any innovation or dramatic insight; however, this does not deny the originality of his contribution. Martelet, as a professor of fundamental theology and dogma, brought to the birth control debate the simple witness of a Christian anthropology. His role was that of repeatedly calling attention to fundamental aspects of this Christian image of man such as his propensity to sin and his capacity for grace. Martelet's next literary effort on the topic of conjugal morality was the essay, "Mariage, amour et sacrement," which he published in the 1963 issue of N ouveUe Revue Theologique. Martelet's method here is similar to that which we have seen in his previous works: it is at once sensitive to the biblical witness and the relevance of history. He begins with a consideration of Paul's teaching on marriage: Wanting to explain the love that husbands should have for their wives, Saint Paul evokes the love of Christ for the Church. He does this citing the text from Genesis: 'For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.' 34 And then Martelet proceeds to draw out what he sees as the doctrinal content of Paul's teaching here: His point of departure, thus, is that which all the Fathers use who commented on this passge, it is the mystery of the incarnation. This mystery is obviously inseparable from the life, the death, the resurrection and the ascension of Christ, the Mission of the Spirit and the sacramental and charismatic origin of the Church as the Body of Christ, in the unfailing ministry of the apostles and their successors.35 •< G. Martelet, "Mariage, amour et saerement," Nouvelle Revue Theologique 85 (1963) 577: "Voulant .expliquer l'amour que les maris doivent a Ieurs femmes, S. Paul evoque l'amour du Christ pour l'Eglise. Il le fait en alleguant le texte de la Genese: 'Voici done que l'homme quittera son pere et sa mere pour s'attacher a sa femme et les deux ne furent qu'une seule chair." 35 Ibid., p. 578: "Son point de depart, ainsi que celui de tous les Peres qui vont commenter ce passage, est le mystere de !'Incarnation. Ce mystere n'est 486 LA WREN CE B. PORTER Ivforeover, Martelet's method is no opportunistic use of Paul's allusion to the mystery of the incarnation, for Martelet is quick to insist upon the equal significance of the other mysteries of the Christian faith. And so marriage is approached from every angle that doctrinal theology will provide, and a balance is achieved between the demands of the incarnation on the one hand and the resurrection on the other. Both the eschatological and the temporal are given their due recognition: death, the fact of sin and the limitations of life, as well as the life of the spirit and charismatic gifts of grace that carry us beyond merely creaturely possibilities. Martelet radically situates marriage amidst the mysteries of the Christian faith. This dogmatic approach insists that marriage must be seen in the light of each of these mysteries. However, there is a danger to be observed here in Martelet's emphatically dogmatic approach to this sensitive moral issue. Martelet's overriding dogmatic concern makes him somewhat ,uncritical of the traditional moral terminology even when the inadequacy of such terminology is apparent. While Martelet admits the language of the two ends is inadequate and misleading, he is willing to retain this language, inadequate as it may be, because this distinction of the two ends helps to bring to bear upon the Christian conception of marriage a certain eschatological note which is essential for an integral Christian view of man and his possibilities: It happens that a certain way of speaking about the primary and secondary ends of marriage is misleading as regards the true place of human love in the sacrament [of marriage]. This formulation seems to subordinate the ' personal ' love of the spouses to the 'biological' end which is generation. Properly understood, however, this doctrine thus enunciated is basically unassailable. Ordered by human generation, the biology of love is even in its lowliness of an incomparable grandeur. As for the 'personal' love of the spouses, it remains nevertheless conjugal, that is to say, a funcevidemment pas separable de la vie, de la mort, de la Resurrection et de !'Ascension du Christ, de la Mission de !'Esprit, et de la naissance charismatique et sacrementelle de l'Eglise comme Corps du Christ, dans le ministere indefectible des Apotres et de leurs successeurs." THE THEOLOGIAN OF " HUMANAE VITAE " 487 tion of the generic growth of man and linked to a carnal condition which should not pass for the last word on love. In so much as it is conjugal, love will disappear: 'they neither marry nor are given in marriage ' Jes us says in speaking of the world of the Resurrection (Mt. 22;30). If love properly speaking is not transitory-' love never ends' (I Cor 13;8)-its conjugal forms are transitory. The doctrine of the ends of marriage is required by this evidence, no less than by the absolute value of the fruit of love which is the human person engendered. 86 By the time Martelet wrote his second essay on marriage, the Council debates on this subject had already begun and the battle lines were well drawn. And so in his 1965 article for Nouvelle Revue Theologique, "Morale conjugale et vie chretienne," he could say: Evidently there exists a crisis concerning conjugal morality in the Church. After a renewal of the spirituality of marriage, which is yet far from having borne all its fruits, grave problems have appeared. Undoubtedly they have existed for a long time, but one still was able, if not to ignore them, at least, for better or worse, to integrate them. Now, ... it is no longer so. Many Christians, laity and priests, are tempted to think that the traditional doctrine on this subject no longer has meaning. 37 ••Ibid., p. 585: "Il arriv·e qu'une certaine maniere de parler des fins primairc et secondaire du mariage donne le change sur la place reelle de !'amour humain dans le sacrem.ent. Cettc formulation semble subordonner I'amour 'personnel' des epoux a la fin ' biologique ' de la generation. Bien comprise cependant, cette doctrine ainsi enoncee est, en son fond, inattaquable. Commande par la generation de l'homme, le 'biologiquc ' de !'amour est jusqu'en son humilite meme d'une incomparable grandeur. Quant a !'amour 'personal' des epoux ii reste neanmoins conjugal, c'est-a-dire fonction de la croissance generique de l'homme et lie a une condition charnelle qui ne saurait passer pour le dernier mot de !'amour. En tant que conjugal, !'amour disparaitra: 'neque nubent, neque nubentur ' dit Jesus en parlant du monde de la Resurrection (Mt 22, 30) ... Si !'amour proprement dit n'est pas transitoire--' la charite ne passe pas' (I Cor 13, 8)-ses formes conjugalcs le sont. La doctrine des fins du mariage est commandee par cette evidence, non moins que par la valeur absolue du fruit de !'amour qui est l'homme engendre." • 7 G. Martclet, "Morale conjugale et vie chretienne," N RT 87 (1965) 245: "Il existe evidemment une crise de la morale conjugale au sein de l'Eglise. Apres un renouveau de spiritualite du mariage, qui est encore loin d'avoir porte tous ses fruits, des problemes graves sont apparus. Sans doute ils existaient dcpuis longtemps, mais on pouvait encore, sinon Jes ignorer, du moins, vaille que vaillc, 488 LAWRENCE B. PORTER That Martelet is not merely reacting conservatively is evident from the fact that he has obviously listened closely to the arguments on all sides, for there is now something new in the way he defines the traditional doctrine on marriage. Martelet has come under the influence of personalism and his definition of the traditional doctrine reflects this: In short this doctrine is basically this: the sexual act, wherein conjugal love finds its most personal and original language, is legitimate when it is realized in marriage, and nothing in this love is artificially undertaken against the fecundity, even merely possible, which characterizes this act. 38 Here Martel et refers to sex as a language, " personal and original," but this is not so surprising. What is really surprising is that Martelet has even cast the prohibition against contraception in equally personalist terms: " la fecondite meme simplement possible." Procreation is no longer a duty or an end, but the quite simply possible result of that love between people which we call conjugal love. And it should be noted that Martelet says here this is the way of love and not the way of nature. Love is that response to another which cannot exclude the language of fecundity without making the language of love itself impersonal and artificial. The degree to which Martelet has accepted and assimilated the personalist conception of marriage is even more evident in the ethic which he sees following from these doctrinal precepts: The ethic thus defined implies two things: the sexual language at the heart of marriage wherein human love objectifies itself represents the most absolute form of personal exchange possible. Secondly, this language recognizes, among other things, a negative !es integrer. Desormais ... ii n'en va plus meme. Nombre de chretiens, Iaics ct pretres, sont tentes de penser que la doctrine traditionnelle a ce sujet n'a plus de sens." 38 Loe. cit., "Resumee sans appret, cette doctrine est au fond Ia suivante: l'acte sexuel, ou l'amour conjugal trouve son langage le plus original et le plus personnel, est Jegitime lorsqu'il est accompli clans le mariage, et que rien clans !'amour n'est artificiellement entrepris contre la fecondite meme simplement possible qui le caracterise." THE THEOLOGIAN OF" HUMANAE VITAE" 489 norm, that of never undertaking what falsifies, in their normally possible fecundity, the life structures wherein love is expressed.39 However, it might be objected, here we see in the midst of all this personalist language another criterion of morality introduced: life structures, " les structures de la vie." One might see in this Martelet's attempt to quietly slip in the demands of a biological imperative which we associate with natural law theory. However, further on in this essay Martelet defines more precisely what he means by this term: It is true, indeed, in order to express in a few words some difficult things, that the spirit is not nature, the spirit transcends nature by means of conscience, freedom and love. But the spirit is not however in man without nature. I call here ' nature ' all the external conditions to which man is related in his body and which, because they are indispensable to his physical and cultural life, are thus not at the mercy of his freedom. Man is not himself without relation to this world, without dependence on it, though he can never be reduced to it. Neither pure transcendence without conditioning-that which is proper to God-nor pure conditioning without transcendence-that which would reduce him to the rank of things-man is, essentially, that which one can call a conditioned transcendence. 40 Martelet's thought here is a refinement and application of his •• Loe. cit., " L'ethique ainsi definie implique deux choses: la premiere, que le langage sexual a l'interieur du mariage OU I'amour humain s'objective represente Ia forme d'echange interpersonnel la plus absolue qui soit; la seconde, que ce langage se connait, entre autre, une norme negative, celle de ne rien entreprendre qui altere, en leur fecondite normalement possible, les structures de la vie ou s'exprime l'amour." 40 Ibid, p. 248: " TI est vrai en effet, pour dire en peu de mots des choses difficiles, que !'esprit n'est pas la nature, lui qui la transcende par la conscience, la liberte et l'amour. Mais l'esprit n'est pourtant pas dans l'homme sans la nature. Nous appelons ici 'nature' I' ensemble des conditions exterieures a quoi I'homme se rapporte en son corps et qui, indispensables a sa vie physique et culturelle, ne sont pas pour autant a la merci de sa liberte. L'homme n'est pas lui-meme sans appartenir ce monde, sans en dependre, lui qui pourtant ne s'y reduit jamais. Ni rure transcendence sans conditionnement--ce qui n'est qui le le propre que de D:cu!-ni pur conditionnee sans transcendance--ce ramenerait au rang des chcses-l'homme est, par essence, ce que l'on peut appeler une transcendance conditionnee." a 490 LAWRENCE B. PORTER original considerations in Victoire sur la mO'rt regarding a Christian anthropology and more precisely the relation between man and nature. In that work toward a Christian anthropology, Martelet chose death as the ultimate horizon of man's existence; here it is man's corporeity which Martelet sees as conditioning man's transcendence in such a way that man does not have the freedom arbitrarily to dispose of his body for his own purposes. The body conditions or defines even love. And so to seek radically to alter or avoid those conditions is to assault our humanity itself. Martelet's next important work on conjugal love is the small monograph, Amour conjugal et renouveau conciliaire. It is something of a response to Canon Louis Janssens's equally small but provocative work, M ariage et feoondite (Paris, 1967) . Canon Janssens had been one of the first Catholic theologians to come out in favor of the use of the anovulant pill for both therapeutic and contraceptive purposes. As early as 1958 in an article for Ephemeri